My family loves beach combing. Searching for rocks, shells, and bits of flotsam entertain them for hours. There is a beach we go to on our boat that at first we didn't really care for - it was so rocky, not something you land a fiberglass boat on - so we have to anchor and wade in. But it's an inspiring beach we have grown very fond of.
The river is very wide there, well over a mile, and waves pound in endless, merciless succession. The shore is covered with beach glass, driftwood, bits of dock, concrete, tar, and pebbles. Amazing pebbles. The kind you spend a fortune for in gift shops. The kind you hunt for at the seashore and are happy to find a dozen. It's incredible.
Based on the novel, "Immortality, Inc." |
We brought our friends with us this weekend. They live in Sicily now - the Mediterranean Island - and yet this beach captivated them too. I feel like Bill Gates when I walk along the shore. I skip rocks out into the water that I wouldn't dare dream of using somewhere else because of their rarity. When an especially interesting piece of driftwood floats by I grab a handful of these beautiful missiles and launch them at it - and watch the puddles encircle it as the scatter shot lands. It is a remarkable feeling, squandering the wealth, knowing there is an unlimited resupply at my feet.
We find bones too. Usually fish but sometimes birds. This isn't a tale about finding a human skeleton, don't worry.
This weekend we saw an eagle take off as we approached. There were no other boats. No other people. You can't actually even see any houses unless you are very farsighted.
I'm stuck on a train right now. I'm heading into another day at the start of another week of doing something other than beach combing. It's okay though, If I close my eyes, the wheezing of the man behind me sounds a little like the water lapping against the hull of my boat and… I saw an eagle in flight from one hundred feet away.
An exceprt from "Freejack".
Eagle Man: He Riddles me. The ancient riddle: "What's the point?" Have you ever seen an eagle flying back to his home with dinner for the Mrs. and all the little eagle babies. And he's flying against the wind and he's flying in the rain and he's flying through bullets and all kinds of hell, and then right at that moment when he's about to get back to his nest, he says, "[Forget it], it's a drag being an eagle" and right then two little x'es comes across his eyes just like in the old fashion cartoons. And he goes plunging down, and down and down and BAM. He's just a splatter of feathers and then we don't have the national bird of America no more. Did you ever see that?
Alex Furlong: No.
Eagle Man: Me Neither. Eagle's got too much self-respect. How's yours?
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