Wolfku Musing 43

A thousand horses
Manes of spray and nostrils foam
Hoofs cresting, landing

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In some paintings of the stormy sea, the artist has portrayed the cresting waves as rearing white horses, pounding towards shore.

One windy morning, on my regular walk along the Pacific Ocean shore, I saw these paintings come alive: eyes, nostrils, manes, the urgency, the joy of aliveness.

And loudly so.

A trillion trillion trillion water molecules playing horse make a significant rumble as they come crashing down, singing (I believe) for the sheer dance of it.

It is an almost never-ending arrival of white-maned herds, setting out days ago from Japan and arriving now, at my doorstep.

Yes, my world is a magical place.