what a view

 photo beach_zpsbe2c04d7.jpg
Credit – Natasha P

He knew he should appreciate the beauty of what he was seeing.  The rainbow horizon.  The yellow fading to gold to red to purple.  The long stretch of black where the sky and sea met.  The light filtering through the gathering clouds.  He knew it was beautiful.

But, after spending 47 days on the island, he had seen the same view 46 times before.  It no longer held the magic it originally had.  It no longer gave him a sense of optimism, that despite his dire circumstances there was a bit of adventure to what he was going through.  That feeling of adventure had waned as the first days had turned into weeks and then into a full month of isolation.  Loneliness.  Lost.  Forgotten.

No, the view no longer held any beauty or excitement for him.  He was resigned to the fact that he may see the same sunset for the rest of his life.  The same stretch of beach.  The same breakers.  The same horizon.  The same nothing.  Nothing moving on the water.  Nothing flying overhead.  Nothing he could signal to for help.  Nothing he could swim to.  Nothing that could help him survive.

Except, the clouds were a welcome sight.  He was excited about them.  The rain they would bring would give him clean water to drink for many days.  He would just have to hope they volume he gathered would last until the next storm.

Turning his back on the beach and the setting sun, he scrambled up to the makeshift shelter he had created from palm fronds and driftwood.  There was much that needed to be done before the storm hit and he didn’t have much time.  He could already smell it.  He could feel the change in the air.

Then again, he thought as he worked, perhaps there is still a bit of adventure left after all.  He smiled and sang as the sun vanished below the horizon and the dark clouds swallowed the sky.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

This post brought to you by moi’s Picture Writing Challenge #27.  It’s well passed overdue, but I don’t think he’ll mind me still using the picture and linking it back to him.  I doubt he’d mind if you did the same.  So, what do you see?  Write it, link it, post it so we can all enjoy the same view.

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40 thoughts on “what a view”

    1. Current job has some down time between morning and afternoon. I’m busy from 5:30 to 8:30ish and then busy again from 11:30 to 2:30. So, I’ve got a bit of time some days.

  1. While it seems you are trapped on an island, I hope that you will be home to the Queen for dinner. She may also need to be saved from a spider or two. I understand how it would be hard to leave with that stunning picture and a storm coming that provides you with fresh water, but you could get fresh water out of the tap at your home and run the shower if you want to hear the rain…

      1. Lights were on in the kitchen as I pulled my lunch out of the fridge to pack my bag on the way out the door. It was sitting there, on the wall, mocking me… “here I am, what are you gonna do about it?”

  2. I love your picture challenges, Matt. This last picture is awesome. You took all the mystique out of the sunset and the beach and turned it into a hope that there would be water enough. Love it.

    1. I wonder if it would… Do the people who live on tropical islands tire of the view? Does it become mundane and ordinary? If I were stranded would I look forward to the sunset because it’s beauty would remind me that there is hope, that I had made it through another day? I think it probably depends on the person.

      1. True, I person that lives on an island does so from choice, if your marooned it indicates some kind of accident or disaster which means you not there of your free will.

        personally I think I would love it too.

  3. Sitting here in my coffee shop I look up at the corner of Broadway and 51st Street (Al Jolson Way according to the landmark sign) and all I see is mountains of snow and slush everywhere. New York City snow. The kind that’s hard and blackened at the bottom. People cross the boulevard bracing against the cold winds whipping off the Hudson River. It’s hard to buy into the notion that the above photo could ever, ever, ever lose its magic.

      1. I hear you. I’ve been there. Recently, however, I’ve had a string of major annoyances involving random people (mostly the idiots who live near me – and I understand what that says about my choices of places to live) to the extent that a bit of loneliness and boredom sounds quite lovely.

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