Fireside

Every night we were there we crawled into that little long space. It must have been no taller than an oven and a few casserole dishes wide but I slept soundly. I believed in our self-sufficiency.

There was that day on the beach near Hahei. We walked along a cliff and I can see the path and the view from here. That was the day we took those pictures. We settled on a quiet stretch of beach where a large tree as bent just over the sand like a bridge. We went swimming together and something tells me I was more eager to get into the water.

We visited a famous beach and learned a little more about modern tourism than hot water holes. It looked like a crash site. Hundreds of half-naked bodies crowded around damp holes in sand looking for a little piece of good. Eye contact was scarce and space was limited. It appeared as if we were on the losing side of combat in war and everything was going in slow-motion.

I was relieved when you agreed we cut our visit short, find something better to do with our afternoon. The true mystery, the true novelty, wasn't to be found digging in a hole with a child's play shovel anyway. I stood ona sidewalk slightly elevated from the beach and you were next to me and we looked across the way at the herds of creatures scrambling along the wet beach. What were they after? It makes you think, why do we go after something like that? We may want to see it ourselves, or satisfy this feeling of curiousity, or was it the collective curiousity.