Article Link: http://exchangepress.com/article/a-manner-of-speaking/5021696/
My last moments in Auckland, New Zealand:Son Aaron and his girlfriend Radha drove me to Devonport to eat, explore; we ended up on a weathered old bench by the sea, watching red-billed gulls, humans, and dogs enjoy the sand, space, and water. Without planning it so, we became observers of a dance, a dance between child and adult, a dance of leading and following, reversals and long runs.
Let’s watch them together.
A father and daughter capture our attention as the little girl runs and slips, falling smack into a puddle of sand and water. We expect tears from such a grainy slide, but when she pulls herself up she is laughing. She looks at her Papa, then is off, running and splashing in the waves. It’s delicious pleasure.
Papa begins to dig in the muck, shoveling down with his hands, muddy to the elbows, shirt and pants soggy. The girl circles around him and then plops down to join in the digging. Water and sand weigh down her clothes, too, and soon her shirt comes off. They dig together for a long while, all hands scooping, plopping the sand, watching the drippy sand ooze through their fingers.
Seashells have washed ...