Procelaria

Procelaria
(Sophia de Mello Breyner)


She is seen when there is wind and a great billow
She builds her nest in the roaring fury
And flies straight and sure as a bullet
She lends her wings to the storm
When the sea lions growl in their caves
She passes over the abyss and goes ahead
She doesn’t seek the rock, the cape, the dock
But turns insecurity into her strength
And the risk of dying into her food
So I think this is a fair illustration
Of those who live and sing in bad weather     

The above poem is the figure head of my voyage. I think of it now because we were sailing away today from Bruinisse very early in the morning, wind on the nose, currents with us, nobody on the water, one lost mussel fisher on the shore and a seagull approaching us from behind… Above us she stood still and watched me. Just like that. She was so close, looking straight into my eyes… it felt as if she came to bring a message. Then she took off again a flew around in the open water…. then she came back and repeated the same action…and again… and again…until I remembered the above poem…then she took off and I didn't see her again…