Wake

I’ve been dreaming of summer – the green grass, the warmth of the sun, the smell of summer wafting in through the window on the slightest hint of a breeze as you’re drifting off to sleep with only a sheet to cover you. Last night in my dream it was summer and I was on a boat. I was sitting at the back of the boat, watching the wake billow out behind us. It rippled – big waves at first, which got smaller and smaller the further they got from the boat. Later in the dream I was on the shore, standing at the edge of the water as the wake of a passing boat made its way to shore and splashed up over my feet, again and again, each splash getting smaller and smaller.

Of course, I know this was a dream. There was the fact that I was sitting at the back of the boat watching the wake. In reality I would be more likely to be at the back of the boat hurling into the wake as the waves of motion sickness washed over me. There is the other reality of the sight out my window as I write -- the mountains of snow still covering the ground with more promised to come today.

But since I woke up I have been thinking about the wake.

There are people who go through life leaving a path of absolute destruction in their wake -- a series of bad choices repeated over and over, failed attempts at jobs or education, damage done, failed relationships. I wonder what they see when they look back – if they ever do – and contemplate their path. I wonder what impact their wake has on their future choices.

We are ephemeral. We pass through. We are here for a while, but ultimately we all go. We all have an impact on someone or a series of someones. I am looking at my wake. I am contemplating what I see there. What is it that splashes onto people’s feet as I pass by? What washes up on the shore and remains? And, I continue to dream of summer.

Image: web.me.com