The Whale and the Albatross

It's empty out here, but there's air to breathe closer to the surface. Silence is relative, the gentle breeze and the crest of wave so familiar they make no noticeable sound. Cloud and island are all that break the landscape of blue deserts. A setting sun and its reflection point the way home and to a much needed rest. Tomorrow, sunrise will begin the chase again. That nothing is running away doesn't matter, keeping up with the currents does.

Short life and quick journey or long life and slow journey, carried by what should be hands. Tails tell the story of wind and water, and are told which way to go. There are no maps required in travels so simple. Survival the only instinct and the only choice. Elsewhere, a small world continues to grow ever smaller; here, at least, its enormity remains a comfortable companion. Aviary and aquarium infinite, exploration in its purest form.

The moon is absent tonight, so open eyes are not required. It's dark, but the water and the air are still warm. The sea and the sky melt together; the horizon waiting to be found. Swim or fly. Your choice.