Eddie’s editing take.
I watch a scene on the screen.
A resurrection of a lake.
On the third month it rose again from the dead.
The camera zoomed in on the distant shoreline.
I’m taken aback with the flood of emotion at the flood of water and its motion. Taken back to my childhood playground. Oh! Wading summers, willow summers, white-capped waves wash over wallowing wags. Whooping and wailing.
Yesteryear as sharp as the smell of weed and water and waders, pardalot and coots and water rat under willow roots.
Show me more for my memory store.
The camera zooms the placid waters.
Rowing and bailing, becalmed.
Sailing and bailing, gibeing and leaning and reaching in a choppy southwester. Shocked by the cool wet spray on a scorching summer’s day.
Now shocked by the power of emotion.
An old friend has risen from the dead. Resurrected by moisture from the distant ocean.