Scooby welcomed 2016 at the shore. It was his idea. They are old friends, The Sea and The Scoobs. Which is why the 21 year-old Scooby always walks softly on the sand carved from the sea. Because after 147 years, they are connected. Being gentle to both is his pleasure. Being gentle to all is his life.
He sniffs for joy and he sniffs for purpose. Remembering those stories from so many yesterdays. And sharing the new along the way. A reminder of the many lives he has lived. As a sailor. At one with the water.
Sometimes he sniffs a spot and he laughs. Not at that. But at what it was thousands of years ago. When he knew it before. Because what happeneded then. He remembers.
These days, these bright blue crisp new winter days like January 1st, these days are his oyster. With two old friends. Scooby and The Sea. They laugh. I hear it. With toes that are tickled. With foam that greets the nose.
Because when The Sea calls, Scooby always answers.
Sea Fever, by John Masefield:
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. The Sea and The Scoobs. thepongofund.org
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