Stars of the Deep

I'm not easily fooled; I pride myself in that.  I may have travelled down as far as I could, and I may have seen some freaky stuff, but that doesn't prove a damn thing.   In the end it all comes down to what you allow yourself to believe.  But, I don't think telling you what I saw would convince anyone else.  It's something you have to see for yourself.  Real or hallucination, it's your choice.

They say the bottom of the ocean is the world's last mystery.  From there, it's off to the moon, outer space.  Lucky for me, we haven't figured out the ocean yet.  There are places yet untouched.  Personally, I hope we never discover ever secret the ocean holds.  Why do we need to know everything?  That would be boring.
 
But, fascination draws a person to the unknown and so I took a highly sophisticated, technological submarine down, further than a lot of scientist hope to go.  It was dark and, like the fog, it has a way of making a person feel extremely isolated.  It doesn't matter if you have people checking in with you every five minutes or if the radio is blaring.  Seeing nothing all pressing around you makes you feel alone.


If I was less of an adventurer I'd have been terrified.  The silence and the nothingness and the idea that the ocean could crunch you into a squished cube at any second are enough to freak anyone out.  But, my curiosity was strong, perhaps too strong and that made me a bit careless.  I allowed the sub to drift a bit off course and that's when it happened.

All of the lights went out.  I don't know why, but just the lights, everything else was still working until the craft drifted under the ridge.  Then communications were blocked.  Thankfully life support was still running, though I still don't understand how.  We'll call it a miracle.
In the dark a panic began rising in my chest.  I was trying to breathe normally reminding myself that no matter how panicked I became my situation was still the same.  I stared out into the darkness.  I don't know what I was looking for but it was better than staring at the dead controls in the ship.  I continued to stare out, hoping to see something, anything really.

At first I thought I must be hallucinating.  I wanted to see something so badly that I was imagining a slight glow coming from far back in the cave under the ridge.  But, as it got closer, it also got brighter.  My heart was beating fast in anticipation.  What had I discovered?  Was it dangerous?  I began fumbling again with the controls trying anything to get them going so I could get out from under the ridge.  Nothing worked still.
 
I could do nothing but wait and drift in my nonresponsive ship.  More lights became visible away from the craft.  I was getting nervous and a little cold.  I waited and watched the lights coming closer for five minutes.  The suspense was killing me.  Then it swam by.

It was a large creature, but it moved with a slow grace.  It almost floated through the water and it billowed like silk in the wind.  Lights grew out of its skin and it glowed like a star-filled sky.  The rest of the creatures approached where the ship was.  Their movements were slowly dragging the ship back toward the opening of the ridge, like somehow they could sense I needed their help.

Around swirled the creatures of the deep that looked like the night sky they had never seen.  The creatures looked delicate, but the depths they swam and lived at suggested otherwise.  I was in awe of their lighted beauty.  I wanted to capture the memory of them and keep it forever.  With a sinking feeling, I realized without photographic proof no one would believe me or understand how incredible these creatures were.

When I was finally pulled back out from under the ridge the creatures disappeared.  The lights came back on in the ship and the little engine powered back up.  As soon as everything was functional the crew's messages from the surface started buzzing in.  There was a panic up top; the little pod had been out of reach for fifteen minutes.  Fifteen glorious minutes alone with the stars of the deep.

I didn't tell anyone.  But I wanted to write it down so in case I die, at least someone will know.   I couldn't tell anyone, they'd think I was crazy.  That experience changed my life.  Sometimes it's hard to pick out the moments that really change you, but that was definitely one of those moments when you believe you have seen one of God's rare creations.  There is no chance it couldn't change your life, seeing something like that.



 Stars of the Deep © 2012 Katherine Kovanda

Sun Song

To My Future,

It was I who broke the darkness.  It isn't like I meant to, but it happened.  Some things you just can't undo.  I surged into existence and that is when it happened.  Just like that.  And I'm not bragging.  I'm simply stating fact.  I exist, therefore the darkness is broken.

I like shining down on things.  I light the way, scare away the fears that lurk when I'm gone.  I oversee the worlds that I light, guiding the life forms below me.  Yesterday I turned four and a half and I considered it a pretty special occasion.  I've been glowing so long that my planets don't even remember what it was like to live in the dark.

But I remember.  It was like yesterday when they blinked into my light.  They stretched and began turning, soaking in the heat I provided.  It was new, an experience to shed their fears.  The planets let my light chase away the dark.  But, some of them didn't like being so warm, so they took turns deciding where to dwell.  When they finally decided, it felt right and for the most part, they stay where they decided.

Watching the worlds turn and exist and live is like watching a novel unfold in your hands.  It is really gratifying knowing that all that exists is living because of me.  I'm holding all this life together.  Every day I shed light to darkness and give hope to the far sides of the planets.  As long as I am expected to shine, the fears of night wash away at dawn.

My birthday was special.  It always is special.  And occasionally to celebrate being alive I perform wondrous things.  I love creating color splashes across the sky as I leave one place for another.  To make it extra spectacular sometimes I make sure there are clouds so that my colors bounce around and magnify themselves.  I know some beings are too busy to care, but somewhere someone is watching in awe.

Watching isn't always easy, though.  I watch over my planets and sometimes bad things happen.  I can't help but watch and I can't help at all.  The only thing I can do is keep shining and wish that they could feel how much I hurt for them.  I hurt when Mars lost all civilized life.  I hurt when Pluto was deserted for warmer climates.  I hurt every time the human race goes to war.  But in all of those places love heals the wounds and the hope that I will come up again tomorrow and that it will be a better day carries people into the new dawn.

I don't know what will happen when I am on death's door.  I hope another youngster comes to take my place and teach this system some new things.  I've seen these stars pass by searching for a home and I can only hope they find one as good as mine.  I may not be the best, and I might not burn the brightest, but I am constant and I provide well for my system.  I am filled with pride for the life I witness.  And, as all of us should, I wrote a little poem to last as my legacy long after I'm gone.

For, as I turn, life goes on; and as they turn, day comes, a new dawn.
Hope springs from the dark and love dwells in each heart and as I wax poetic,
Each soul gets a fresh start.
This is my story and I will keep spinning on,
A furnace with a heart and a sun with a song.

Truly yours,

Sun




 Sun Song © 2012 Katherine Kovanda

The Lighted House

Pristine.  That's how I would describe the day.  We had lived in the lighthouse for over fifty years.  Weathered many a storm together.  My wife would batten down the windows, put on an extra jumper, and put on some soup. 

Copyright © 2012 English Russia

But today, all is quiet.  The weather calm and the sky nearly clear.  This was the kind of day she would put on a jumper and go sit on the rocks and read.  But, alas, now it’s just me and the cat.  Who would have thought that such a hard working woman could be taken so easily?

So, today I'm going out in my little boat to bask in the light of the sort of day she liked.  I'm taking flowers and they're occupying the honorary spot in the middle of the boat where she used to sit.  The boat is small and propelled by the oars in my hands.  It is slow work because I am so old and my joints creak almost as much as the house does.  

The salty sea air is doing wonders for my spirit.  Inside the house it can get dark and cold despite the temperature in the outside air.  Pictures are all I have left of the woman who could deter me from stealing a biscuit with nothing but a wooden soup spoon.  Pictures of our children, and their children.  Pictures of our parents.  Images and memories are all I have and both are fading.

But the sea is the same, in the way that it is always there and always changing.  She loved the sea and that is why she loved me.  I am a man of the sea and I will always be; it’s in my blood.  But lately, the sea has been calling.  So, I'm in my little boat to see what it wants.  After an hour of laboring with the oars, I'm only halfway around the cove.  The work feels good in my muscles, but my joints are not responding like they used to.  I'm alive, the sea is calm, and the birds are talking.  It's a beautiful day.

Last night, I remember as I paddle, I had a dream.  A neutral dream.  A dream with my wife and the sea and a shiny lantern glowing in the distance.  I still can't decide if I like the dream or not.  But the sea is light now, vibrant blue with hues of green.  It is day, not night like in the dream so it falls back into my memory.  I am calm like the ocean, breathing gently and feeling the breeze on my old, wrinkled face.

I remember to give wide berth to the rock jutting out of the water as I cut back in to a little bay.  It runs deep and below the surface the rock is wide and jagged.  How many little boats it took to discover all this rock's secrets is hard to say.  At least five.  Many fishing trips were taken to this bay.  She used to love coming along to fish.  She wasn't ever particularly good at fishing, but she was always good company.

In the days of our children, she never wandered far from the house.  She would play with the children and cook and read them stories in the sunshine.  Leaving them for a second could doom them to death by desire.  The water is so inviting and so dangerous for someone so little as our children were.  We had to teach them to swim and never swim alone.  "The water is beautiful, but the water is dangerous," we told them.  We were good parents.  

When our children moved away, the ocean helped us stay busy.  We tended the light in the tower, we fished, we went out boating.  We became dancing partners again and we played the old records without mercy.  We enjoyed our own company and never turned away any who visited us.  She put up the pictures she took and the pictures our children brought us.  

She kept the shutters open.  Light flooded into the kitchen which curved around toward the base of the house.  The kitchen was where she loved to be.  She baked and cooked until she was tired of it.  But, she was never really tired of it.  Just like I am never tired of the sea.  It beats in my heart, the wave's rhythm.  Never ceasing, except in the dream when the lantern came on.

But, the day I was paddling in was glorious.  An old man's day.  The ways of the world off in the distance connected to the mainland and the rush of activity that followed it there.  Today was my day.  My own rowing delegating my direction.  The gentle breeze in my thin hair.  My sweater was enough to keep me warm in the sunlight and I'm old enough that I won't get too hot in the same light.  Everything was just perfect for the day.

I was paddling around the calm side when I had an urge to nap.  I pulled the boat onto a rocky little shore and lay back basking in the light that warmed my closed eyelids.  I don't know how long I slept but I was on no schedule and I had nowhere to be.  

I woke to the sounds of the early evening.  I shivered a little and backed the boat off the beach.  I was still tired, but I needed to be getting home to the light.  It was getting dark and I was very hungry.  The cat was probably angry with me for not letting it out in so long.  The water was very still, occasionally wobbling in the breeze that grazed its surface.  My little boat cut into the calm and left ripples out behind.  

I could hear my wife commenting on this kind of day.  "It's a weird one, George.  The water is never as calm as now except before a storm."  Perhaps she was right.  I thought I could sense a change in the air and something was on its way.  I thought perhaps I should be getting back.  But, my muscles weren't really responding now.  The cold and the fatigue of rowing all day were wearing me down and I couldn't help but want to fall back to sleep again.  Foggy words in my brain told me to keep rowing back to the lighthouse, but my body didn't want to do anything.  

I turned the final bend and the house came into view.  A spectacular sunset was sinking back behind the house and the light was falling through the tower.  It was quite possibly the most beautiful sunset I'd seen in my entire life.  I felt a peace and calm fall into me and I couldn't help but shed a small tear.  

"It is beautiful," I whispered.

"George, it is beautiful."

My wife was sitting right in front of me in the boat holding the flowers I'd brought for her.  She was glowing in the setting sun and looked as pretty as I ever saw her.  


 The Lighted House © 2012 Katherine Kovanda

Through the Window

Sunlight brightens a room.  Of this I'm sure.  It is uplifting and warm and reassuring.  Add to that a steaming cup of coffee and a good book and the recipe for a perfect getaway spot is complete.  I sometimes bring my plant to the window for a shower of light.  It just adds something to the space every once in a while to have a living organism sharing the light with you.  My cat even comes to join me on occasion.

One day I was reading a dark story.  It was a bit depressing, and impeccably well written.  I had to take breaks every couple of hours to let my mind unwind from the stress of the story.  During these times I had been refreshing my coffee and gazing out the window.

The window's view was from the second story of my house.  It overlooked a side street that had a little cafe right across from the house and other little shops up and down the street intermingling with a few other houses. As I was sitting staring mindlessly out the window, some movement at the cafe below caught my attention.

A young man and woman had just sat down at one of the little outside tables.  It wasn't long before the waiter brought them both cups of coffee.  It wasn't a cold day out, but in the shade of the building it was cooler and there was a slight breeze ruffling the tablecloths.  The two young people seemed to be enjoying their conversation.  

From my sunny perch it seemed as though I was watching a silent movie taking place below me.  They reached across the table at one point and began holding hands and the gesture delighted me.  It was such a subtle and natural action.  I could see that both were deeply engaged in the other.  They hardly looked away from one another.

I left to go refill my coffee one more time and when I came back, the couple was halfway through their afternoon meal.  It reminded me of when I used to go out to cute little cafes with my husband.  We didn't seem to do that anymore.  We had become busy individuals who granted quick pecks on the cheek when we passed in the halls to and from our activities.  This younger couple made me miss those days.

Just then, I actually saw my husband walking up the street.  He was fixing the sink downstairs today on his day off from his job.  I admired his ability to fix almost anything that could break.  It was one of the wonderful qualities he possesses.  I watched him near the dining couple and then cross the street.  I noticed his little brown hardware store bag; he must have gone out to get a part that he needed.  As he was crossing the street he looked up to my window and I smiled and waved down at him.

Not too long after, the couple paid for their meal and then left, heading up the street hand in hand.  I sighed and then returned to my book as the sun continued streaming in through the window.  My novel wasn't quite as interesting now, but it was just as depressing.  It wasn't a very happy story, but it was one of the newer books in our library.  I didn't feel like reading more of it so I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall to enjoy the rest of the sun.

After a few minutes I heard the stairs creak as my husband made his way up to where I was sitting.  I could sense him standing in the doorway watching me as I soaked up the sun in my corner.  He smiled at me when I opened my eyes and looked over at him.

"Would you like to go out for dinner, Marissa?" he asked me.

I smiled and took his hand as he helped me up.

"I'd like that," I said kissing him.




Through the Window © 2012 Katherine Kovanda