Monday, May 23, 2011
I was working away in my office today and on the shore across from me was this woman of indeterminate age with a boy of approximately three years of age, I would think her grandson.
He goes around and painstakingly picks a bouquet of dandelions for her. Once he presents them, she refuses them. Instead she puts him sitting, holding the flowers, on a little platform my daughter created last year for meditating. I had placed a bag on it, weighted with stones until full, to hold the jetsam and flotsam I pick up off the beach. She empties this bag all over the shore and then places it on the wooden platform for the boy to sit on as she snaps his picture. He again offers her the bouquet and she grabs it from him and tosses it just as she had the garbage.
He kicks around the shore, disconsolate, as she continues to take pictures of their surroundings and then he heads off to the water and begins to throw all the rubbish she has tossed around the shore into the water as she continues to photograph him.
There is no interaction between them, the woman (a stranger to me once I check her out with my binoculars) might as well have been a stranger to the little boy, so obsessed is she in capturing The Moment© for posterity. This Hollywood moment only existed in her head, of course. The only real moment was when her grandson attempted to give her the flowers he had so carefully picked and she had tossed them to the wind along with the garbage I had so very painstakingly gathered from the very same beach.