Moonlight glistening on the quiet water
as I slide noiselessly into its
dark protective environs.
Our headlamps look like
a busy nighttime L.A. freeway.
Everybody going somewhere.
A slender tether keeps me from
drifting off into the Pacific Ocean.
No reef, just open sea another 3,000 ft. down.
Familiar anemones and unpretentious sea cucumbers
have deserted me here with
glittering blue fins whispering quickly past.
A moving galactic sprawl with
Jellies waving their arms to attract the
pelagic horde throbbing like my beating heart.
Do they mind that we have invaded their space?
We don’t belong in this world.
How do you avoid feeling that you are bait on a line?
In this dark and secret place
the largest animal migration on the planet, yet
freeway traffic continues unaware.
I am hauled up like a fish.
The boat is alive with quiet reverence.
And Pink Floyd playing “The Dark Side of the Moon”.
Pachofa-Unfinished 
How brave…diving in the dark seems more ominous to me. It must be a euphoric feeling of accomplishment.
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Hi Carol Ann. I think it must be like returning to the womb—-floating in liquid space.
Colors not bright like in daylight, but masses of creatures not seen in the day.
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Much like a waking dream-like state, maybe? Akin to those times of shock or grief when we seek in vain for comfort?
Sometimes I wonder whether those “floating” dreams we have are the vestigial memories of our distant aquatic ancestors.
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It’s possible I suppose. Once underwater, movements are familiar.
I always had trouble with my dive mask. Snorkeling of course keeps you closer to the surface and closer to home. Daylight dives are more beautiful with the wonderful colors. Our good friend is a Padi Master (dive instructor) BTW, Kate and her husband frequently dive in Thailand which must be exciting.
Naturally that part of my fun is behind me! Not too many 86year old grandmas underwater these days. But it’s all good again in memory.
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I finally became comfortable with snorkeling — even dove Thunderball cave. I loved seeing all the fish, the corals and the sea-creatures.
But I just couldn’t scuba dive. I think that’s where my claustrophobia comes to the surface, and keeps me at the surface. I’ve tried and tried to re-find some fantastic photos I saw of some folks diving an underwater temple recently, but no joy. I need to start saving some of these sites that are interesting, even if I think I’ll never want to go back to them. Inevitably, I do want to go back, and get frustrated.
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The enticement of underwater caves is a thrill. Never knowing what or who is in them!
The last time I snorkeled was about 4 years ago in Hawaii, and found my asthma would no longer let me do that. My daughter and I kayaked with a group about 5-6 miles to a rocky cove where I found I had no strength to pull myself back into the kayak, or up onto the rocks with a boost. A great embarrassment after a lifetime of doing whatever. The paddling was good though. Life tosses in a lemon or two now and then.
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