by Ray Jason
Something
in the Sea awoke me. I wondered if the sound had only been from a
dream, so I listened intently in the darkness. There it was again.
It was near, but unrecognizable. I grabbed my flashlight and pepper
spray and quietly slipped on deck to investigate. Nothing appeared
unusual, but then I heard the sound again. It was up near the bow.
The
moon was half full, so I didn’t use the flashlight as I crept
forward, because I know every contour of my boat like a sculptor
knows clay. As I got close to the bow, I was startled by a sudden
squawk and then the flapping of wings as a black-crowned night heron
flew swiftly away. It had been fishing from my anchor chain.
I
chuckled and apologized to the fleeing bird, and then I went below to
make some tea. There were still a couple of hours before dawn, but
the unexpected encounter had jolted me awake. It seemed like an
excellent time to seek some clarity on a topic that had been
fermenting within me for a while.
Recently,
a young reader had written to me in muted desperation. He confessed
that his life seemed like an indecipherable jumble of thoughts,
emotions and insecurities. He said that he admired the way that I
could discuss complex topics in such a clear and organized fashion.
He was envious of how confident and free from doubt my life seemed to
be.
And
so, in this peaceful, isolated cove I settled in with a cup of tea,
my clipboard and its tiny light, to reassure that unknown reader that
I too am often assaulted by a “jumble of thoughts, emotions and
insecurities.”