I am in love with a view

I am in love with a view.
That view, it’s speckled. Speckled with trees and waves.
It’s got buoys floating on a cold sea, with ropes tied to sunken traps with all the lobster I might eat.
It’s got an island so I know where to look.

The horizon of conifers behind the island’s rock beach goes up then down then up again.
A pine needle cityscape.
It throbs red and pink in the evening.
The sun dips and seems to kiss the treetops before falling to where I cannot see.
The sea catches it’s reflection and stretches it out to me. The sea is streaked with gold.
I am blinded.

I love the wooden deck that I stand on to look out.
My toes traces knots in the wood while my eyes traces circles in the seagulls’ flight.
And I’m standing because sitting just doesn’t feel as good.

I love breathing there. There, where all I have to do is breathe.
And sometimes I hear a breath echo mine. A breath emerging from the water yards away from me.
It’s a reminder of what’s below the blue surface. I’m not the only mammal there.
I try to fathom how I would withstand that cold. It only gets colder the deeper you go.

I am in love with a view.
That view, it’s speckled. It’s speckled with cars driving up the mountain across the bay.
White houses on stilts.
Bird shit on the island and glass on the beach.
I thank the wind and the moon for conducting the loud waves.