Zooming and zipping around in my agile, loyal car, I poked my neck out, sniffing for a car space, like a wolf hunting for prey. After loitering around, I finally found a space for my car to rest. My mouth wrapped around the neck of my drink bottle, as I felt the icy-cold trickle of fresh water down my throat while goosebumps stung my arms. I felt refreshed. I felt ready.
With a jiggle of my keys and a woop woop of my car locking system, I headed down the hill of bright green and into the kaleidoscope of Sydney Sandstone, rock, sand and sea. I didn’t hear a sound, as the sun delicately winked along the crystal clear, still water. The ocean was at peace and so was I.
Walking back to my car, a “how’s it going” along with a few other words, were exchanged before my dive buddy and I prepped dive gear. Wiggling into my wetsuit, like as if I was trying to escape my cocoon, we did our buddy checks.
Returning to this hill of green in Oak Park, Cronulla, we roamed down to the white, overexposed sandy refuge many people use to toast their bodies, as the scent of sunscreen temporarily overwhelmed the rest of our senses. The sharp, cold water shocked my face, as we signaled to head down.
Roaming through the assortment of brightly coloured rocks, rich, golden sea kelp and purple sea tulips, our bodies were weightless, as we glided like angels through this other world.
A thump noise, then a crunch, was heard, as we turned around to check it out. A giant shadow creeped towards us, as we feared for our lives. As the shadow engulfed us, a huge eastern blue grouper embraced us, welcoming us into his world. His huge, plump, silky blue lips endlessly pouted, as we danced in a circle of bliss. His lips got closer and closer to mine, as I backed away, then returned the gift. We flirted for a while, before a sea of Mado rained on us. My dive buddy and I transitioned back to land, while my mind was still with him.
© Karina Teuma