http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/21/Flag_of_Colombia.svg/125px-Flag_of_Colombia.svg.png
San Andrés, Colombia
While sitting on the breakwater, I saw a girl and her father who both looked like they were finding their lives at the bottom of the sea. I captured this scene after the father handed over to his daughter what seemed to be some small unknown colorful fish:
http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c3...erfather-1.jpg
One beauty of travelling is the poetry in people and what they do or say to make you write something about them. And that night, the sound of the waves I could hear from where I was also moved me to put them into words:
Her Reason
by ЅUX2BÜ
Even when her father started digging the sand with his feet,
carefully finding some permanence beneath it, he still had
to take everything around him into consideration: His eyes,
examining all those certain things, reflected them all back
into the sea—. There, some fish spoke of a girl who agitated
the surface, dipping her hands to scoop some water. A fish
emerged, jumped, and saw the sun glinting on her dark eyes
and face, dove back, and with correct calculations, swam
away. She scurried, lunged to find it, but it disappeared as
big waves surged against her—catching her like they had big
hands and hurling her into the water, past the fish below. You
saw her swimming an unknown distance toward her father,
who had to interrupt his recently established permanence. She
later emerged in his arms. Behind were even bigger waves
rolling to surround them, but quickly moving back toward
a more distant point. The girl saw all these and started to cry.
