Years ago, a friend visiting from Colorado became impatient with our talk of high and low tides. “What does that even mean?” she cried. So I took her out at high tide and showed her the width of dry shore and the location of breakers relative to the cape. Six hours later I took her out again and showed her the difference. I have something to say about that term “king tide” and tides and sneaker waves.
Sneaker waves, white male privilege, assumptions, earthquakes. [Mine as well.] The terrible ironies we live with every day.
SNEAKER WAVES. I was working in the Library, a Wednesday when I generally stayed late to provide access to students until the evening. However it was the last day of school, and students were furiously clearing out their lockers, signing yearbooks, and on their way to summer vacation. E stopped to say hey. He had just completed his Sophomore year, so I hadn’t had him in class yet. But we chatted, laughed, and both managed to be clear about looking forward to spending time together in the fall.
My friend was at the coast for a graduate residency. She expressed concern that students warned about sneaker waves seemed to think it was a joke.
IMPERFECT PATIENCE 