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| Photo by Colleen Breuning © 2015 |
Cloud Hopper
The skies gleamed with crystal blue persuasion,
beckoning me to the water’s edge. I
stared in wonder as the seagulls frolicked and dipped into the sea. Wispy cirrus clouds floated by at a
leisurely pace, and I longed to touch them. A slight breeze stirred, and the crash of the breakers called
to me. I couldn’t have asked for a
more picture perfect beach day.
This is exactly what my soul needed. The anxieties of life had worn me down,
my nerves were frazzled and sleep eluded me. I was in search of peace. God knows I would have been content to just lie in the sand,
toasting my skin to a golden brown.
A rum flavored cocktail topped with an umbrella is all I really
wanted. That, and perhaps a good
book to immerse myself in.
But my friends were insistent. It would be the experience of a
lifetime, they said. Life’s too
short. Go big or go home. Don’t be a wuss…
So I swallowed my apprehension. I gave in to the pressure.
As I stepped tentatively onto the stern of the
idling charter boat, my eyes were drawn to the name hand painted on its
hull. The Whatchamacallit.
Not a very reassuring name for a sea worthy vessel. The wind began to pick up, and the boat
responded, bobbing back and forth beneath my Skechers. My heart beat furiously, and pit of my
stomach burned. I wasn’t sure if
this was excitement, fear… or a little of both.
The boat captain smiled broadly, thrust a life vest
into my hands, then buckled me into a harness. I held on for dear life, gripping the leather straps. Returning to the midsection of the
craft, he gunned the motor and ventured forward at a slow clip toward the
western horizon. As the rushing
wind gathered beneath the colorful parasail, it puffed up like a curtain
blowing in the window. The
tow rope grew longer, and my body was lifted like a balloon, high above the
aqua sea.
The balmy breeze kissed my cheeks as I skimmed weightlessly
across the fields of blue. My chest
filled with euphoria, adrenaline pumped through my blood. I let out a squeal. So this is how it feels to be a
bird! I reached out my hands to
touch the soft cotton clouds, hopping from one to the next. The people on the beach below me looked
like ants, and I waved to them from my perch.
Pure joy coursed through my veins. I was so lost in the delights of flying
that I didn’t hear the snap. A
sharp jolt, and suddenly I was adrift, scaling to new heights. Then as the parasail lost momentum, I plummeted feet first toward the
sea. Terror seized my heart.
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came
out. My body hit the surface with
a loud slap, and plunged underwater violently. The impact rattled my bones, the sound shattering my
eardrums. Dead silence. Everything faded to black before my wide
open eyes.
Floating, the undercurrents pushed me down. A brilliant white light beckoned in the
distance of the ocean depths. I
swam toward it, my limbs gliding effortlessly beneath the frigid water. Never before had I held my breath this
long. Oddly, my lungs now were one
with the sea.
In time, I rose up beyond the confines of my watery
grave to the sanctity of the cottony clouds. I watched as my loved ones built a memorial on the
beach. Saw them wipe the tears
away, then drive off to laughter-filled gatherings. But time marches on, and misfortune tests the sincerity of
friends. They eventually stopped coming
to pay tribute and moved on with their lives. They forgot about me.
But up here, I am never alone. At night, I am cocooned in the warm
arms of the maternal clouds. When
daybreak spills across the crystal blue skies, my heart soars. I ruffle my feathers, spread my wings
and join in with the seagulls, dipping down toward the sea.
Peace, at last…
Colleen Keller Breuning © 2015
December 1, 2015
