Tuesday, September 19, 2006
A Crabby Moment
Lately, times have been very trying for Karim and I with all the work stress, world stress, and people-in-general stress. We've been on each other's last nerve--not very pleasant company amongst ourselves.
However, this week we were given a nice break. We had TWO days off together in a row, not just one, which is, in itself a miracle, but TWO DAYS! (We didn't even plan it that way.) Sunday, the first day, we lazed around, cleaned house, studied for a test Karim has to take for his work, and enjoyed the quiet at-home moment. Yesterday, we drove into B-- for some business with Karim's work, which didn't take too long, and on our way back, we stopped at a little restaurant perched alongside the inner marshes of the bay. Karim confided in me that this was his "secret" place, that he likes to come to when he is stressed from work. I loved it. The weather was perfect. It was one of those days that looked like it was supposed to rain pretty hard in our part of the city, but the clouds here came and went with the wind, and the temperature remained cooler than it had been in a while.
We ate lunch in a little patio outside, alone. There were no other customers out there, just a few people inside the building. The food was great, and the scenery was even better. A bit of land jutted out into the water, (...and I don't know what it's called), with a little road, where people could go down to fish.
"I want to go down there," I told Karim. He simply thought I was crazy, and said something about snakes and wildlife hiding out in the tall grass. Okay, so I'd go alone. Which I did when we finished eating. I went down to the road, and Karim went in to play pool with himself.
How beautiful it was, like a dream. I walked down the road, looking at the sunflowers and the butterflies and thoroughly enjoying myself. The road curved around down to the water, and as I began to make the descent, I noticed a million tiny, scurrying bodies, all heading in one direction...away from me. I couldn't make out what they were until I got right on top of them, figuratively speaking. When I realized what they were, I felt so happy and joyful that I was able to witness such a wonderful thing. They were crabs, millions of them, only about an inch tall and wide, and as blue as lapis lazuli. they scuttled into the grass along the muddy, sandy road, except for the few that stood guard to protect the rest. And stand guard they did, one here, one over there, with one huge claw upraised in the fighting position. Wherever I turned, they turned. I had to watch every step I made, as I didn't want to squish such beautiful creatures, and as I walked down this road, the miniature crablings parted like a sea before me. I could hear them clicking on the discarded plastic bottles that some of them scrambled across in their flight. I wished, somehow, that I could grab them all up and take them home, but wasn't quite sure how to deal with the claw, so they stayed at the beach.
I walked down to the water, my shoes getting muddy and damp, and as I came to the waters edge, I found a graveyard full of seashells. I'd never seen shells piled up so high in my life. It was the stuff I dreamed of as a child, but was never quite able to find. Huge shells they were, and so numerous that they created a "tile" floor beneath my feet. I chose as many as my hands could carry, washed them in a wave, and then turned back, gingerly stepping over the guardian crabs on the road as I went.
Now I have, in my head, a picture that I can create for relaxing. I have found my little "secret" place, too, even though Karim would like to say it is his, alone (after all, he found it), but I found the crabs and the shells, and I claim them as a beautiful gift from God. As a result, we had a beautiful "weekend" together, and we can share it always.
I did, after returning to Karim with my armload of shells, drag him down, (through the snakes) to see the crabs. He loved it. One thing we both learned from this moment: In order to see a miracle, sometimes we have to go where we are afraid to go.
However, this week we were given a nice break. We had TWO days off together in a row, not just one, which is, in itself a miracle, but TWO DAYS! (We didn't even plan it that way.) Sunday, the first day, we lazed around, cleaned house, studied for a test Karim has to take for his work, and enjoyed the quiet at-home moment. Yesterday, we drove into B-- for some business with Karim's work, which didn't take too long, and on our way back, we stopped at a little restaurant perched alongside the inner marshes of the bay. Karim confided in me that this was his "secret" place, that he likes to come to when he is stressed from work. I loved it. The weather was perfect. It was one of those days that looked like it was supposed to rain pretty hard in our part of the city, but the clouds here came and went with the wind, and the temperature remained cooler than it had been in a while.
We ate lunch in a little patio outside, alone. There were no other customers out there, just a few people inside the building. The food was great, and the scenery was even better. A bit of land jutted out into the water, (...and I don't know what it's called), with a little road, where people could go down to fish.
"I want to go down there," I told Karim. He simply thought I was crazy, and said something about snakes and wildlife hiding out in the tall grass. Okay, so I'd go alone. Which I did when we finished eating. I went down to the road, and Karim went in to play pool with himself.
How beautiful it was, like a dream. I walked down the road, looking at the sunflowers and the butterflies and thoroughly enjoying myself. The road curved around down to the water, and as I began to make the descent, I noticed a million tiny, scurrying bodies, all heading in one direction...away from me. I couldn't make out what they were until I got right on top of them, figuratively speaking. When I realized what they were, I felt so happy and joyful that I was able to witness such a wonderful thing. They were crabs, millions of them, only about an inch tall and wide, and as blue as lapis lazuli. they scuttled into the grass along the muddy, sandy road, except for the few that stood guard to protect the rest. And stand guard they did, one here, one over there, with one huge claw upraised in the fighting position. Wherever I turned, they turned. I had to watch every step I made, as I didn't want to squish such beautiful creatures, and as I walked down this road, the miniature crablings parted like a sea before me. I could hear them clicking on the discarded plastic bottles that some of them scrambled across in their flight. I wished, somehow, that I could grab them all up and take them home, but wasn't quite sure how to deal with the claw, so they stayed at the beach.
I walked down to the water, my shoes getting muddy and damp, and as I came to the waters edge, I found a graveyard full of seashells. I'd never seen shells piled up so high in my life. It was the stuff I dreamed of as a child, but was never quite able to find. Huge shells they were, and so numerous that they created a "tile" floor beneath my feet. I chose as many as my hands could carry, washed them in a wave, and then turned back, gingerly stepping over the guardian crabs on the road as I went.
Now I have, in my head, a picture that I can create for relaxing. I have found my little "secret" place, too, even though Karim would like to say it is his, alone (after all, he found it), but I found the crabs and the shells, and I claim them as a beautiful gift from God. As a result, we had a beautiful "weekend" together, and we can share it always.
I did, after returning to Karim with my armload of shells, drag him down, (through the snakes) to see the crabs. He loved it. One thing we both learned from this moment: In order to see a miracle, sometimes we have to go where we are afraid to go.
