Why does water play such an important role in my life?
That's the question I woke up asking myself this morning. Okay, not completely true. The question I WOKE UP asking myself was "Dare I sleep another half hour, or will it make everything mucky?" I didn't ask myself the water question until I got into the bathroom and had brushed my teeth and was about to get into the shower, after turning on the faucet so the cat could get a drink, but it would sound really silly if I had said "The seventh or eighth question I asked myself this morning was..." etc.
So, the question I asked myself this morning was about water. Want a little backsory? Promise, this one won't involve agricultural equipment, and the only time I will refer to John Deere Green will be right there, and is now past, so you can open your eyes again.
Elephants are marvelous swimmers. With the exception of most birds and probably a number of insects, Nature preprograms all creatures with the ability to swim. Not to mention fish, which are designed solely to swim, and penguins, which are birds that do not fly but can swim. Irrelephants, however, aren't much on swimming. I never learned to swim, and had a nice aquaphobia drilled into me as a child, both of which, along with my natural reticence to be bare to the sun contribute to keeping me from learning how to swim.
Don't get me wrong--as much as I cannot swim, I love the water. See, I feel that if water ever finds out that I learned to swim then it will see this as implicit distrust of it, and water will then take it upon itself to drown me as retribution for lost trust. Ergo, as long as I trust water not to hurt me, I shall never be drowned. Works out nicely.
Irrelephant is known to be an avid (if not skilled) fisherman who loves the slow boating across the lake to that perfect spot, and finds the Pacific Ocean to be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. I like to soak in a tub of hot water when I find a tub that will fit me, and have no problems with things like shower stalls or claw-foot tubs. And if you've read a few of the previous posts, I love rain showers, too, as well as the near constant storms we've been having the past few days, from the tropical storms pushing moisture up into LA.
So why this vital attraction to water, and the things that accompany it? Why do I love rain frogs, claw-foot tubs, and Jacuzzis? Is it a sort of love/hate thing, a cosmic yin/yang that brings much needed balance to my life? Am I too dry?
Why do I think up my best blog posts while I'm in the shower? Is it beause I'm just waking up while showering, or because the water somehow opens my eyes (spiritually) to new things?
Do I knowingly flirt with potential death? Perhaps. See: motorcycle riding.
Perhaps it's because I'm composed of 90% water? Scientifically speaking, could be. Perhaps because water is made up of simple atomics and beauty is to be found in simplicity? Mebbe.
It seems that water has always been a source of comfort to me, a thing of beauty unto itself. Hell, I don't know, I just like water. There's nothing more lovely than standing on a jetty of black volcanic rock on the Pacific Northwest coast, the better to watch the ocean pound and crash and foam against the jagged stones, knowing deep in my heart that every pound, every crash, every cataclysmic surge wears down the stone just a tiny bit, until one day the mighty stones will be nothing more than dark sand underfoot.
One of my personal favourite posts was the one where I revealed the story of the creek in Mississippi where some of my favourite childhood memories and fears were formed. It all stems from water; in that particular case it was the perfectly crystal clear deeply cold spring water that fed a beautiful meandering creek, hidden from all view. I spent hours after hours in that creek, afraid to get too deep, but longing to be immersed in it's glassine cold.
So what is it with water and me? I don't have the easy answer to that one. I don't even have the hard answer.