Dear Walee

Friday, 17 September 2010

Dear W.B,

There's a British bloke who's trying to set a world record by travelling through every country of the world in as short a time as possible.
His intrepid journey sees him mostly sitting on buses, on boats, on trains, trying to work out the logistics of each nation's transport systems, and rushing to catch his next connection.

He's chasing his record around the globe, as the shadows of the places he passes dart in and out of view, briefly illuminting only a glimpse of what might wait for him in another, more static world.

If seeing the world can be compared to seeing a sunset, then he's only seeing the nanosecond 'green flash'... none of the delicate violet, nor the blood red, nor the deep orange, or the gay pink, or the dark midnight blue.
Yet, the green flash is a thing of mystery, rarity and wonder that many people may never see in their lifetime.
He sees it again and again, night after night, and people always tell him 'Oh, you're so lucky'... or they say 'I wish I could do that'.... or 'I'm so jealous of you'.

He tilts his head modestly, grins in acknowledgment, but his eyes are hard and insincere.
Every time he sees that green flash, he sees it alone.
He sees it without the context of the other colours that combine to show the full spectrum; to show everything that a sunset has to offer.

Perhaps green is his favourite colour.

Perhaps he doesn't like the darkness that follows a full sunset.

But perhaps he always knew that to appreciate a full sunset, you have to see it in the right place, with the right person.

I arrive in the United States on Monday, 10:40pm.