The Letters - (#5) The Fjord

Dear friend,

Today, I am standing on a precipice and looking out over the fjords.

It is so majestic, being here, in the refreshing salt-water air. Everything is royal: the sky, the trees, and the cliffs. I cannot help but hope that some of it rubs off on me.

Awe, my friend, this is an age of awe, and with awe comes fear. Fear always lingers near awe with a foreboding look upon its face and wags its finger as if to say "No, you'll die." As I stand on this precipice, I begin to feel the fear closing in on me, whispering to me. My Mother always warned me about getting too close to the edge. She would say, "Don't get too close to the edge, it might break and you might tumble down with it." She had so much wisdom.

But I just cannot help myself. Everything is beautiful. Dark greens and deep colours of all kinds are everywhere. The precipice is covered with grass that grows all the way up to the edge. "Heck," I think "if the grass can do it, so can I." I make my decision, but still I move cautiously, because no matter how hard one tries, one simply cannot altogether dismiss the advice of one's Mother.

I am so dangerous now. Yes, I am. I live in an age of danger. I have dangerous music and dangerous clothing and dangerous hair. Oh baby, I am so dangerous.

I am on the edge now. I take off my shoes and throw them into the ocean below. The shoe laces dance and twirl and the shoes take a good 6 seconds to hit the water. My bare feet bite into the grass. "It is so lush and green," they tell me, "thank you for freeing us." "What funny feet I have" thinks me. Then, I spit off the edge and watch it fall. I guess I could not help doing that either. Who could?

I sit over the edge and let my feet dangle. Surrounding me lay forests untouched and thriving in the abundant climate. This is truly a majestic place. I am a blissful cake. Or sheep. How does the expression go?

I look down and I can see the water hitting the rocks. "The tide's a changin'" I think. Then I begin humming that famous Bob Dylan song. My mood changes. I think of lemmings, those sad, morbid creatures. I get up to leave. The wind changes. The clouds roll in. In the distance, I hear thunder. My feet quiver. "It's alright" I tell them. But words cannot comfort feet the way that shoes can. I wish I had my shoes.

Taking one last look around, I am again amazed at the grandeur of it all. But it's different now. It is darker. But for some reason it makes me smile. "More danger," I think. Then, I turn and jump.

I'm dancing, twirling.

Then, I hit.

I slice downwards through the water. I'm in deep. The water is colder that I thought it would be. My feet are numb in pain...I didn't know they could be both at the same time. My ears hurt. Suddenly, a powerful quiver spreads through my chest and up my spine where it lingers in the back of my head. This shiver is unique. It is intense and small. It is as if a thousand tiny voices are yelling at every single cell within my lungs "BREATHE!"

I can't breathe.

I think human beings have a sick addiction to oxygen.

Where did the air go? Where did the Sun go? The water knows. I know it knows. But it won't answer. It's too watery and bluish. "Answer me!" I scream. "Answer the poor man," the tiny yelling voices plead.

Then, it does and I am released back into the world of life, air, and Sun. My lungs celebrate by immediately gorging themselves on every oxygen molecule within their reach. I gasp while the Sun beams down at me. Everything is so majestic. Then I look and I see, floating, right next to me, are my shoes.

My feet do a dance.

They cannot help but not.