Slack water, also known as ‘the stand of the tide‘, is a short period in a body of tidal water when the water is completely unstressed, and there is no movement either way in the tidal stream, and which occurs before the direction of the tidal stream reverses. (Wikipedia)
I was looking forward to a breathtaking sunset by the sea, typical in these parts. So I was somewhat disappointed when, as the day’s work was almost over, rain clouds appeared.A gentle shower began as we drove to where we were to spend the night. I asked for permission for that hour’s cigarette, I got it. That was our agreement – that I would smoke only one cigarette per hour.
Camera and overnight bags on the floor, I took a short nap, woke up and asked – would you like to check the water out?
We walked to the shore, in the rain. The sea was calm, unusual in these parts. There was a breeze, it was cold. We hoped that the water would not be so cold. We stepped in, and it wasn’t… it wasn’t at all. In fact, it was warm – a break, I finally caught one, I thought.
We walked a few paces away from the shore and into the water, which remained just below the knees. We stopped and sat down with the water just above our waists. The shower continued and paired with the breeze, any part of your body outside the water felt really cold. So we sunk ourselves further with just our heads above the water.
And we just stayed there, taking it all in – the warmth of the sea, the cool breeze on our faces, the silence, the stillness.
This afternoon, we were not our usual selves when we’re at the beach, in the water. We used to have a ball, a frisbee, balls of sand flying between us, sandcastles would be built to see which one would withstand a wave that went too far to reach our miniature castles’ moats. I could’ve sworn we did all of that the last time we were at the beach just a few weeks ago. No, the last sandcastle was much longer ago.
Today, we just sat in the water, silently. I looked over and saw this young man, a goatee taking shape on his chin. No balls of sand, flying disks nor sandcastles, just the two of us, and the silence, and the relative stillness of the water. Earlier, he was with me – while I tried to understand the story of a group of women’s hopes and dreams to make their lives a little better, so I can in turn tell their story to a much wider audience, he set that camera on a tripod, chose the right lens to capture the moment, zoomed in and out, adjusted focus, moved to a different angle.
How much he’s grown, my youngest son.
I broke the silence. Not sure if he was relishing the moment as much as I was, I asked, Ready? Not yet, he said. Just a little while longer. Ahh thank, God, for I too couldn’t think of any reason why this moment should end.
For moments like this, take all the time you need and want. Tides flow and ebb, time flies, no matter what, but me, for you, son… for all of you, my children, I can wait.
