Melanocetus johnsonii

On the surface the weather is calm. The Sun shines high, happy to delight with its boundless heat. Passing clouds take into their hands regulating the incoming energy to make the surface comfortably warm. The wind blows softly as if in no hurry to be anywhere, its whisper only broken by the chatter of distant birds. The flat, salty waters make the sailing smooth.

Below the surface, however, the weather is no more. The deeper the waters the less effective the Sun is in affecting the circumstances. Sounds become noise and the superficial warmth is cancelled by cold currents flowing from the polar regions. A couple of kilometers down, where the sunlight can't reach and the only truce of darkness comes from the light that a handful of deep sea creatures carry themselves, lives an extraordinary creature: Melanocetus johnsonii.

Melanocetus johnsonii

Such is the analogy I used to convey the progression and possibilities of a relationship. It usually starts on the surface where the conversations are calm and the sailing harmless. At some point the debate arises about how prudent it would be to test the waters, to maybe dip a toe in it. Two could spend a lifetime here on the surface, licking each other's junk, satisfied and uninterested about the waters below. A sensible approach by any means, as valid as it is safe.

(It is a sign of wisdom to know how far an analogy can stretch in order to stop before it breaks.)

I am not much of a surface dweller, as fine as it can temporarily be. The fine weather unsettles me and the light is often blinding. I'm cautious (coward?) enough to not bring out the subject of the ocean myself until the other party makes the mistake of doing it first. Before we have had the chance to clear the rules of the dialogue I've already thrown myself overboard, nose first, hungry for the barely lit ocean depths.

And down I go, one lungful of air, diving towards increasingly darker waters, fleeing from the light in search of an ugly, self-lighting creature, heading both home and to the unknown.

And depthwards I keep going, looking for the johnsonii that makes the ocean.


January 2020. A plane from Tenerife Norte to Barcelona.