The humidity does many things in summertime Japan. Some are destructive – I have already lost 2 shelves, a necklace and a pair of shorts to mold, and who knows what else I’ll lose. I have my dehumidifier running in my closet right now. It also keeps me in a nice shiny glaze and soaks my sheets at night. I have to run the fan to dry my bed during the day.
The humidity does some very beautiful things though too. Like when I’m biking to school and look up into the hills to find their tops erased by clouds, smudged out against the white sky. The ocean too seems to be born out of the mist, its giant waves generated just out of sight before being sent to shore. Standing on the beach tonight I could see it all in perfect moonlight, the humidity having settled down above the water. The man on the moon was singing his high sad note and the melody played along the moonbeams before being turned to pure liquid on the waves. The waves tonight came silently and didn’t sound until they beat upon the wavebreakers. I felt no bigger than a pebble tonight, standing there peering over them. The waves were just the right size so I could imagine myself standing at the edge of a lake looking up at the water lapping on shore. I wondered what kind of a sound those waves make to tiny ears.
I cannot forget you ocean, and I cannot look away. You’re magic- you don’t exist and you spread everywhere, beyond what my mind can fathom. I think I could lust after you, I would have run away to you if this were a different century. Ocean, take my thoughts and sail them over your belly; scatter my dreams and gather them on your other side. Hold me shallow and take me deep, deep to where my darkest unspoken fears lie sovereign and language knows no words.
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