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Occasional waves exploded two or three stories into the air, drenching girls who perched themselves, like sweet little seagulls, on the steel railing that perimeters the pier.
There were three boys and a girl in the frothing turbulence of the water, riding the surface currents of the waves. It was a wonderful display of mental alertness and physical strength and endurance of their prime-of-life bodies. The background ambience is Danger. Risky behaviour? Of course. How else does a human being test their abilities?
The waves had a rough rhythm roughly learned by the quick-witted teens, when they were climbing the ladder, the impact and withdrawal of a single wave ripped them off the rungs and pulled them back down in to the deep. One of the boys gripped the girl's arm to ensure her safety. She successfully made it to the arms of a girlfriend.
The waves had a rough rhythm roughly learned by the quick-witted teens, when they were climbing the ladder, the impact and withdrawal of a single wave ripped them off the rungs and pulled them back down in to the deep. One of the boys gripped the girl's arm to ensure her safety. She successfully made it to the arms of a girlfriend.
Some times the waves would tease the teens, pushing them up as if to cast them out, but in a split moment sucked them back into an adrenalin rush. Toying with them like so much flotsam.
Finally, everyone is safe and secure, drenched in a lifetime memory. They will eventually become responsible civilians, pass through two or three decades, and recall the sheer exhilaration if this day. One older woman admonished the teens, telling them the fine details of bashed heads, lungs full of water, etc. It reminded me of the words of Irving Layton in The Whole Bloody Bird:
"It is cruel for the old to inflict their disillusioned wisdom on the young. Fortunately it is also impossible."
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