The breaking of dawn was quiet apart from the sound of waves rolling in. White water further ahead broke against the shore. I could just make out Harley’s dark shape on the beach. He was no doubt lying on my hoodie keeping warm.
The horizon changed colour, as the rising sun lifted the morning out of darkness. There were a couple of other surfers out on the water, waiting, bobbing up and down, captured by the sunrise. This time of day was magical, ethereal, meditative. I felt blessed to be out here. Far from the troubles on land. Deep in the other worldliness of the ocean.
Harley sat up as he saw me paddle and glide my way back to shore.
“Hey mate”, I greeted as he sat upright. Taking a towel, I dried my hair, then looked down the beach. I had noticed the group of early morning swimmers. They came twice a week, rain or shine, regardless of the season, to swim in the Southern Ocean. They called themselves Poseidon’s Wives, an eclectic group of mature ladies with a taste for salty adventure.
Sigrid was one of the regulars, sometimes also coming by herself. She had a reputation for stripping off for a swim on any occasion, joking that she was a water baby.
The group of women had also come out of the water at the same time as me, and were towelling themselves down, chatting excitedly and laughing amongst themselves. Sigrid waved at me, and I raised a hand back. It was our routine. Sometimes she would come over and we’d talk about the surf. I’d catch glimpses of the way her wet hair fell around her face, and the salt water covered her neck and shoulders.
Harley turned to look at Sigrid, who was on her way over to me. His tail started to wag. She greeted me in her usual personable way, and gave Harley a pat and a hello.
“Lovely morning,” she commented. And so we talked about the surf, the water, the sunrise, the absolute beauty of this coast and how much we both loved it. The more we had these conversations, the more I felt that they weren’t really about the surf. They seemed to be an excuse to be in each other’s company. To share what we had experienced out on the water, with each other, in a silent and unspoken way. She tended to linger and we often held moments of silence, while gazing out at the ocean, until one of us would say we had to go and get ready for the day.
Back at the car park, Sigrid would open the back of her car, and start discreetly removing her swimsuit. It would be about then that I would get Harley to hop into the back of the car, and Sigrid and I would share one more look as we bid each other a good day. The world on land would swallow us up until the evening, when I would head back to the beach. And the same thoughts would come. Why is it that we choose to keep our feelings unspoken?
That evening I found Sigrid at the beach. She was sitting on the sand wrapped in a blanket. Not that it was unusual to find her there, sometimes she would come to meditate. Harley ran up to her and they shared a hug. Then she looked up at me and we smiled.
Harley plopped himself right beside Sigrid, so I asked her if it would be alright if he stayed there. She simply smiled and nodded.
I headed out onto the water and played with the waves. From time to time, I could see them both sitting on the beach, and each time it caused a new feeling to stir within me. To see them both there, as if waiting for me.
I hadn’t really given much thought to the fact that Sigrid could have her own problems to contend with. But of course, everyone did. Nobody was immune to life. Sigrid had always seemed such a balanced even keel spirit, unaffected by whatever life threw her. But she was just better at disguising it. And it was quite possibly the reason why she came to the beach, to find her own peace.
She was still there as the night drew on and the sun set beyond the trees. When I was done with surfing, I came and sat down next to her, and we remained like that in silence for a while. Perhaps we were waiting, waiting for the other to say the unspoken, to reach out and touch the other in just the right way with the right words or gesture. I wasn’t sure I was able to do that. Do I dare? Do I have the right? Who gives us that right?
“Can you give me a lift home?” Sigrid finally broke the silence. I could just make out the definition of her face amongst the backdrop of darkness.