What may have not happened if the sky is not painted with azure, grayless and ominous clouds cladding to each other; Mayas that are not chirping on the twigs of enormous, eye-level mangrove trees; soundless whispers of air from the sea and the crowdless bridge from the isolation to the beaux arts of Nature: ocean.
Perhaps, it is a disastrous for a day with pleasantry!
It is a fine noon. It seems that there are only two souls, two personas who have happened to meet in their desirous attempt to be merry. They both have lives to cherish and that is to cherish both lives as one. They have not thought that their souls have led them to a path which Nature's will acquiesces! And in this acquiscence, they find refinement of their weary souls. The seclusion is the refurbishment of the wrecked souls that have been torn by despair, depression, anxiety and loveless. Yes, loveless it is!
So, there she is! A woman whose soul has never been found yet has been seeking for a soul. She is leaning against the platform on the veranda. It is a patio that allows to have a panoramic view of the ocean that is hidden beneath the huge and scattered mangrove trees. She is near but her thinking is remote: she is in the reverie of the possibilities of walking on the tempestuous ocean, afterward be swallowed by a whale shark and manage to get out from its hole through tickling its belly. The concentration of her being dreamy is interrupted by the sudden shockwave of the link of her soul to another, he whispers, "let's go!"
He takes away her hair away from the nape and then he kisses it. The kiss serves as an electrocution that sends message directly to her brain; she wakes up!
She grins and closes her eyes. She thinks, "is this the real life?" then turns around and faces the soul that has binded her's to his'.
"What are you thinking?" The question may sound caring as it is articulated carefully.
"What is she thinking?" she asks inwardly.
The power of the human is incomparable to every being that is why humans are considered the top of the heirarchy of the food chain. Nevertheless, she is not really on the top of the food chain because she just consumes totally and does not produce. Thus, the Sun is on the top! Then, she smiles. She is subservient to the Sun. She submits herself to the Sun. He reminds her of the Sun. The brightness of his lucid face is a conclusion that she is loved and that he must be loved! - It is not a command that is coming from the faculty who thinks but from the heart (the heart wants what it wants!).
"Nothing. Let's go?!" then they start to walk on the bridge. While walking, he notices almost everything: the massive roots, the bizarre crabs with gaudy pincher, bright blue-feathered bird screeching somewhere else, the wooden-made bridge and of course, the rubbish tangled on the roots. These are the things he has not just noticed alone but I notice these too! We are on the brink of the bridge which it is as if a four-walled room but it is open, that the person who built it might have thought that it will be a nice place for visitors who want fresh air for breathing, there is a roof made from leaves of coconut trees, tables that are as old as the ocean and the two eggshell-like hanging by a chain linked to a rusty pole. I sit there for the moment while he is setting the masks and the snorkels.
I breathe the air that is coming from the verdant mountain that is guarding the resort from invasion. I think the mountain's purpose is to keep the beautiful and serene place away from the pollution of modernity and for the longevity of peacefulness. He startles me that I almost lose the train of thoughts. Still, I am riding in a train of happiness and love which I do and will cherish forevermore.
So I bring my mask and snorkel so he does.
There are about 6 downsteps away from the ocean. And I can see how low the water is that it is leveling in his knees while it levels on my thighs. He screams. "It's so warm!" And I see his expression. Meine Güte! I almost fly! I never see a man as lovely as him ever. Then I smile and my eyes are just staring at him like I am the luckiest girl in the universe, indeed! I feel the warmth of the ocean but it does not interest me. What I feel is the warmth of his innocence at his age and the purity of his love for Summer. I admit, I never like Summer. It is the most fatal season of the year but what can I do? I live in a country which has a tropical season and that I must bear it. And for him, it is like a bliss for him and for me, he is a blessing showered from above. My heart, even if it does not feel the warmth of the ocean, starts to pound. And then I sigh the most wonderful sigh. He stares at me. And I smile at him. Then we kiss. He spits on the glass of the mask and so do I. We wear the equipment and start to walk. The air blows heavily that I can almost hear it. Minutes of walking, we are on the part of the ocean which is convenient for swimming.
I swim first and he follows. We see fishes and corals that I have never seen in my entire life in spite living near the ocean while he has never seen these miniscule beauty crafted by Nature in his entire life of traveling and experiencing some of the wonders of Nature. When I point at the coral which I think is peculiar, he stops and I stop too! Then he stands and removes the tube for breathing underwater and say, "That is a Sea Anemone. That is poisonous so do not ever touch it! Only Nemo can live in that kind of coral." The way he says these, I feel that there is a conviction in his words and his commands are pleasing in my ears. I love to hear him saying things like these, in fact, I have never seen someone who as caring as him with rigidity.
He wears it again and we continue to swim. We explore the part of the ocean that is limited only to our capacity of swimming away on the shore.
We have a view underneath the ocean of hues of corals and fishes and starfishes. I can say those are the fishes that I seldom see in the fish market. Especially a group of tiny fishes swarming in a singular pink coral. And you will not believe, when I try to wave my hand at them. There is one fish who as tiny as the others act as the leader of the School and attempt to charge me but it does not happen. The man who is swimming with me is mighty as the Lion in a Pride. He does not do something but I surmise his mighty has saved me from this aggressive, small fish. So the fish retreats.
Then we discover things that we have not discovered yet and this snorkeling will be one of the plenty things I want to discover with him.
Suddenly, I feel like there is a commotion above me. So I lift my head and see that the air is blowing horribly and tremendously. Below, are corals and fishes that are living inside of it. Due to this, the water gets inside the tube and I am searching for something to stand onto. The water blocks the passage of the air. Upon realising this, the serene feeling has vanished and the survivability occurs through panicking. It seems like stepping on the corals is impossible. I cannot imagine to step these wonderful tiny and fragile corals just to be able to stand and take the water out from the tube. Then, I see him taking me on the huge coral which I think can manage to handle my weight. I take my mask and the water inside the tube. He is also standing on the same huge coral I am situated. He smiles and hugs me. " The water is inside my tube." I exclaim. "I know. You are so brave by not stepping into the corals though you are in the dire situation of being drowned." He hugs me tightly and we kiss. Then the sudden change of weather from sunny to cloudy; to windy and to sunny again is the weather I must have been expecting before. Then I see the sun shining above us like a Queen giving her soldier a good fortune.
We set aside the emotion and reserve it for later. Again, we swim away from the corals. And we notice that the water rises little from his knees to his thighs; and from thigh-level to hip-level for me. Meters away from us, we both see a party ship that stops-over near the corals which we are once situated, and then the two men throw out the anchor on the ocean, into the corals.