The woman took the large, unadorned plastic container from the man's hands as wavelets licked at their running shoes. The younger man stood back on a higher ledge away from the lapping of the receding tide. He sipped a bottle of beer and watched on.
She knelt and tipped the contents into the water. It settled on the brine-kissed rock. On the leaves of kelp exposed to the golden afternoon sunlight. Onto the hissing foam. And as the sea lazily rolled back in, the ashy water ran over their feet and soaked their shoes and socks through. After some persistent shaking, the contents were dispersed and the woman took the man's hand and rose without noise, without sorrow.
The three of them looked at each other but possibly barely saw the faces of the others for the thoughts and the imaginings coursing through their minds on this stark occasion.
The men wiped away silent tears. The woman smiled.
Now holding hands, now resting arms on shoulders, the three made their way back to dry land. Far from final shorelines. Further from the loss of a loved one.
*****
Coming over the rise into Sutton Forest I saw the fattest rainbow.
Colours to rival Damballah, vigilance to rival that of the Rainbow Serpent and greedier than even Midgard's sentinel. For a second I felt it would swallow the sky or collapse in the attempt.
There may or not be a successful shot in the camera but I won't know this until I get home to Camille tonight.
In the meanwhile, take all my mock turtle meanderings with the smallest pinch of salt.
(For Simon)
Free now...
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