They Think, Coo, They Say, Nothing

I always forget how when stepping off the pier, as soon as my feet touch the sand, there is a tremendous shift in speed, like stepping off the moving walkway at the airport. Time slows down, the body feels heavier, takes more effort to heave forward. In that instant I want to stop and sink, listen to the water lap, watch the blades of distant wind turbines turn; watch the grass, the grass blowing on the dunes of the shore. Isn’t it just like after the end of a relationship? Everything is harder, life feels heavier, the heart weighs more than the body, the head, in the clouds, just something to drag around. I always forget and as I feel my feet sink into to the sand, I know I must keep going if I want to dip a toe in the waters of Øresund. I notice the beach salted with tiny white shells and even the differently colored seagulls seem depressed, just standing by the water's edge on their feet, staring out to sea, flightless. What is even the point anymore, they think, coo, they say, nothing is as easy as it used to be.