Sea of Waste

Fisherman were just starting to pull their nets in, and the sun was just peaking over the hills. The morning was perfect. At six we headed to the surf shop to rent paddle boards, and by six forty five we were paddling down a shallow river, heading out to sea. Only the paddles made noise, effortlessly gliding in and out of the water. It seemed as if we had left all our cares behind, it was just us and the ocean. Everything was wonderful until we turned back towards shore. Clouding the surface of the water was muck left behind by fishing boats. It's ok, I tell myself, the muck will be gone soon, and then we will be back in the clear blue water. I kept waiting for us to paddle out of the polluted water, but we didn't. We just kept paddling through the fishermen's waste. Finally back on shore, looking out at the horizon, the water seemed bluer than ever, the muck was invisible.
We don't see any pollution, so we don't believe there is any. When we do stumble across it, we just ignore it, and tell ourselves it will be gone soon. But it's out there, and it's not going anywhere. Soon, if we aren't careful, we will all be floating in a vast sea of waste.

Maya