~Ritu Ghatourey
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
The Plane and the Water
The sun is high, the water calm and warm. Waves gently move to and fro, disturbing little. The surfers, the waders, the believers, watch as they witness the beauty and the magnificent skill of the pilot maneuvering her plane into the water with great intent, great inspiration. The water gives with the pressure, forcing itself around the craft. With the same ease, releases the craft out and up, the gentle water falling softly off.
The smooth lines on the polished white plane, deep blue trim hugging each curve. I watch in wonder as this plane dips into the ocean with perfection feet in front of me, submerging itself to the tallest fin. Then, with the same beauty and ease, resurfaces and races upward toward the sky. I glare into the window of the cockpit, there she sits, unnerved, relaxed, complete control of her vessel. I notice him, sitting on the right side, accepting her moves, her actions, her discipline.
Her long dark blonde hair flowing side to side as she confidently moves the plane in and out of the water, the large headphones keeping her hair out of her face. Signs of strong discipline beams from her. Taking her lead, believing in her decisions, never questioning, he sits beside her, successfully engaging the plane and the water.
Watching as they take another run, dipping into the accepting, giving, warm ocean, water begins to enter the cockpit. Even though I am floating and can only see the top of the water, I am able to witness this intake. Not enough time to gasp in panic, the pilot re-submerges and gently shakes the water off the strands of her hair. The water draining from the pit just as quickly as it entered. Accepting the water, moving with it and conquering her journey was the truest test.
The smooth lines on the polished white plane, deep blue trim hugging each curve. I watch in wonder as this plane dips into the ocean with perfection feet in front of me, submerging itself to the tallest fin. Then, with the same beauty and ease, resurfaces and races upward toward the sky. I glare into the window of the cockpit, there she sits, unnerved, relaxed, complete control of her vessel. I notice him, sitting on the right side, accepting her moves, her actions, her discipline.
Her long dark blonde hair flowing side to side as she confidently moves the plane in and out of the water, the large headphones keeping her hair out of her face. Signs of strong discipline beams from her. Taking her lead, believing in her decisions, never questioning, he sits beside her, successfully engaging the plane and the water.
Watching as they take another run, dipping into the accepting, giving, warm ocean, water begins to enter the cockpit. Even though I am floating and can only see the top of the water, I am able to witness this intake. Not enough time to gasp in panic, the pilot re-submerges and gently shakes the water off the strands of her hair. The water draining from the pit just as quickly as it entered. Accepting the water, moving with it and conquering her journey was the truest test.
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