A new year arose.
Fireworks lit up the sky in the distant horizon, too far to be fully spotted from my humble county.
I was miles away from the frenzy, the chandons, the seven waves, the smiles of the metropolis. It was just the very centre core of my family, having our most intimate moment as we celebrated with all best intentions.
From afar, I was holding those long, smooth hands.
I had wishes and hopes.
For once, life seemed curiously breezy, calm and, yet, uncannily exciting.
Still, rushed. Very rushed.
It was not long until I crossed the two-nine-o road on its entire and took its one-o-one sister up to north, to the southern Love-Me Bay.
A thousand miles long road trip, with just me, music, asphalt and the hand-drawn landscape that unveiled in every corner.
The very last moments of me and the silver vessel together as one.
I looked at the immensity before me in contemplation and gratitude.
Being there, smelling the ocean and the nature, was just a blessing itself.
Every single step that built up to that moment just added up to the experience.
Time, however, was short-handed, for I had to march back southways that same day.
A new dawn, a new flight.
Below the clowds, it reveiled, all at once, itself to us.
It was Victoria land we just landed in.
With the greetings of a dear friend, I started to explore the exhuberant and fresh land of victory.
The long avenues, the arborized streets, the blue-ish ocean on its surrounds, the sun-kissed skinned people.
A rushed big city blent with such a relaxing feeling that was, indeed, an invitation to unwind.
Then, in silence, I prayed. For the steps I took. For the steps I was yet to take.
May the winner prevail. May Victoria smile at us.
And I took another chance. Yet to be understood.
And as the days went through, under the blessings of the Holy Spirit and the intense, shimmering sunlight, my long strolls through Victoria streets would give me bliss and inspire me mystery and wonder.
What could lay beyond the third bridge?
What is to be found far ahead the island?
What is sunk down the ocean?
A life of questiong. Or questioning of life.
The ocean washed away some of my fears and took parts of me over the high seas.
Still, it could not have, by itself, settled the sense of accomplishment I was yet to run after.
Under promises of return to resume the love affair, I left Victoria.
On the tight terminal, the long delay dennounced that, perhaps, the island wished me inside.
It was, however, time for the next step, for time was tight.
To be continued.
