photo: Jamaica, important vs non-important or the art of relativising, an homage to Joe and Enley
It seemed important to say
that we had nothing important to say
and yet we would still live
for was it really important to say
only what was important
for did we really know
what was important?
since we were happy to say both
what was important and
less important
for all these things
seemed important to us.
What is referred to in English as « small talk » (an expression I really like) is not my forte, but at Tahuna (Nelson beach), I surprise myself engaging in it without the pain I tend to feel in such occasions when I bump into more and more bathers (99.5% of whom are women) who tend to extend their usual swimming season during the winter months. We share our knowledge about the water temperature, warmer or colder today than yesterday, warmer or colder this year than last year, warmer or colder at high or low tide, its quality (better in winter, less good after rain), whether the said bather dips her head in the water or not, whether she comes every day regardless of the temperature or not, the difference that the sun makes when one is in cold water or when one gets out of the water, how one swims, towards the horizon if one is a good swimmer (not me) or if one swims parallel to the shore, particularly if one is alone. All that small talk suits me.
photo : Tahunanui, before the tourists arrive
Tourists will converge on Nelson from December 26 and the beach of Tahunanui (Tahuna) will be invaded by all those who want (rightly) to enjoy the good weather, which goes against my need of solitude. However, I only need to go a little further, and suddenly I am no longer in Nelson, but in a wild place, where endogenous flora abounds. By the time I cross this small trail and I am transported to another world and I can observe the crowds on the beach from afar while enjoying the good weather.
*first published in 2022, revised in 2024
photo : Pohara Beach on a windy day and depressing news from the world
we will demand that the gods
impose silence on the jumble of the world
But the waves will keep talking,
always the same thing, the same thing to say, that’s for sure
but somehow, we don’t tire of it
photo: Tahunanui, a short swim
under an uncertain sky, then this reward
I will stretch my day from one step to the next in the rustle of frozen dust. Homeless thoughts will creep into my mind and as soon as the light ends I will get tired of moving and I will rest
