In A Quiet Town
Strolling around the quiet town of Benicia made for a great pastime with my brother. The weather was perfect for walking around the pier and just breathing in the serenity of the moment. Even now as I look at the sceneries I took, it takes me back to its peaceful embrace.
It seemed like ages ago, but it was only last year that we decided to pass by this little town to take a breather. I remember it being a slow afternoon. We hung around in a coffee shop to do some work; my brother at the time was tinkering on a web design while I was finalizing my requirements for CCA (California College of The Arts).
For some reason, the mood and situation that encompasses this moment reminds me of a book that a follower recommended to me: Grayson by Lynne Cox. Knowing my interest in animals and nature, most especially the ocean, she hoped that I would come to love the book as she did. Grayson follows the story of an ocean encounter between a girl and a lost baby whale and their journey in finding their way to reunite him to his mother.
It's one of those summer novels that you would imagine reading somewhere by the ocean or anywhere near the water, really. But in my case, I read it in the confines of my room and somehow became my alternate escape when things got overwhelming. It lulled and captivated my heart — the writing, the atmosphere, the vivid descriptions that made up its imagery, and the simplicity of the story that yields empowering events. I never knew something so simple can be so powerfully written and reminds me a season of summer in its tranquil glory. For all that it is, it reminds of this day... The peace and the quiet. The mood of the novel is something that I can imagine while I'm sitting in the pier and how breathing in the saltwater air on a cloudy afternoon would feel like: fresh, new and a promise of the uncertainty. It's like taking in a deep breath and releasing all the negativity out into the vast Universe where it will be flown farther and farther away from you. And the next moment, you're just left there, standing, looking out into the horizon and thinking: "This is how it feels to be light and free."
I wish things like this were more frequent: being able to appreciate the mundane things that surround you and being in that incredible moment. It's easy to be swept away by the hustle and bustle of life and the next thing I know I'm already drowning in the chaos and noise.
But in that light, this is when I appreciate the things that I've recorded — the imagery and words that I could always go back to; things that ground me and remind me of the simple yet beautiful events. It's in the little things that I get to appreciate life and it's subtle grandeur.