Boat Ride

             Rain came again to the valley. It fell heavy and steadily through one night, and did not lessen until after noon the next day. The deluge was enough that flood conditions were reported in the township of Dome Valley, and the stream swelled so its course could be easily viewed from the upper windows of the city. Floods were not uncommon in the low-lying valley where the sanctuary sat, and the spongy ground easily accepted the excess water. Heln found himself with a new appreciation for the wet weather. His work at the pond had wrapped up for the time being, and the rain was now becoming a fascination rather than a frustration. After having lunch and seeing the clouds lighten to a drizzle, he rode his bike out towards the fields.

The fewer bushes west of the Sanctuary allowed Heln to better feel the sky as he rode. The luminous gray of overcast created a pleasant roof, and accentuated the rest of the worldly colors. Everything seemed more vibrant, and richer to perceive. Soft waving green moved past as he glided above the path. The ground rose and fell in broad lumps and it was difficult to tell where one, standing on the surface, would suddenly find themselves in waist-high water. The shaggy grass hid flooding well, and one usually felt the edge of a pool before seeing it.

The path led south-west from Dome Central and out into open mowed fields near a broad depression that cut the tended plain roughly east to west. The bottom of the depression was usually a sort of barren wetland, but now a small lake filled the ditch most of the way across. Heln left the wilderness boundaries of the Sanctuary and approached the lake over short-clipped open grass.

The temporary shoreline was featureless, and Heln was captivated by the sight of the clean-cut grass, only shoulder-height at most, meeting in a smooth line the glassy surface of the rainwater lake. From the angle where he sat, the entire surface of the water was a mirror sheen, entirely the colors of the sky above. As he neared the edge however, he began to see the drowned world beneath- a ripply lawn of mystery. Hearing a sound, he looked up to see a small makeshift boat approach his location. At the helm was a smallish man dressed in undyed loose-fitting clothes. He wore a sun hat and a soft smile that seemed to change from perceiving to greeting as he drew near. Heln dismounted from his bike and walked through damp grasses to the water's edge.

The edge of the depression slanted firmly enough that Heln could stand on dry land while the other approached. He called out in appreciation of the makeshift craft.

“Ho! I see some have been making the best out of this weather! That looks like a pleasant time.”

The boat man drew up to the shore and nodded to Heln. “My boat can fit one more if you would like a ride. It is quite something to explore these rainpools while they last. Such a pretty sight to look down on a world that never gets to hide like this.”

Curious, and in an exploratory mood, Heln stepped aboard the small vessel. “is there something the scholars learn from going out on these pools?” he asked. “I have heard of others doing this, and even keeping boats expressly for the purpose,” the boatman nodded, “...but it was never clear to me if that was just for recreation, or if there was some other benefit.”

“First of all,” the boatman responded, as they drifted out into the open water, “there is a great benefit to something, even if it is just for fun. But yes, to your point, there is knowledge to be gained out here. For example, small things that were buried or inaccessible may now float closer to the surface where they can be studied or harvested. Small creatures are sometimes more easily hunted in their displacement, and others can be found and saved from nature's destruction. We, as in all times and places here, are tenders of the eternal garden. There is surely benefit in that.”

Heln looked back at the boatman. “Are you a priest of some sort? I don't hear many in the city use that sort of language.” “Not exactly,” the boatman replied, “I consider myself a disciple of Moriyama. Yes,” seeing the look of surprise on Heln's face, “even if the physical branch here was disbanded. I still see the sun every day.” He smiled and tilted his face to the sky.

---

Heln had been gazing in the water for some minutes, enthralled by the grass floating in liquid wind; finally realizing its dream of the sea. Turning his mind finally from the playing-sea weeds, he engaged the boat captain once more, who had been absentmindedly steering them around the lake, lost in thought, reverence, or both.

“Do your teachings of the sun mention anything about hallucinations of light?”

The captain turned, interested. “In some contexts. Why do you ask?”

Heln recalled for him the event of the previous week. The orange-red flash had happened once more since, but the visual and accompanying mental effects had been considerably less, and thinking back on it now, that third time for sure had probably been a dream. “For the last four days though, there has been nothing out of the ordinary. Given the intensity of the experience, and the similarity between occurrences, I'm exploring multiple theories. I had thought to consult a mystic on the matter as well as doctors, and this seemed a fortuitous meeting.”

“Indeed it may well have been.” said the boatman, regarding Heln now in a different light. “Unfortunately I do not have the answers you seek. I am but a humble disciple living out here in the country and have much yet to learn myself. However, I may still be able to help. You should go east and seek out the wisdom of Fen Golbein, one of my most respected teachers. They are a master of all color-knowledge, and would certainly know what is causing this phenomenon. Take whatever conventional medicine the doctors deem necessary, but also pursue this course, because the world is greater than you or I are aware. Also, the journey should not be in vain because Fen is a wonderful character in any case.”

“Where in the east should I go to find this master Golbein?” Heln asked.

“Hmm. He resides in the Eastern Piedmont, but often travels around teaching where there are few scholarly academies. I cannot say where exactly he is now, but many in that region will have stories of his comings and goings.”

The boat had by now made its lazy way back around to Heln's bike on the north shore. “I thank you for your advice,” said the dark-skinned Plainfield man as he debarked, “and the boat ride; it was a wonderful diversion.” The boatman smiled back under his sunhat. “It is always wonderful to pause and see the wonder of the world. I thank you as well for your company.”

“Good day to you sir, and may the sun shine on your life.” Heln seated himself back on the bike and turned, gliding up away from the water as the boatman signed a friendly goodbye. Heln thought about the advice he had been given. Should he make a journey through the eastern mountains just because of a couple strange hallucinations? The semester was finished, and work had slowed considerably with the rainy weather. Heln looked past the city to where the land began to rise to higher ground. Maybe an adventure was just the sort of thing he would like to do. As he rode towards the city, he didn't even notice the glint of reddish orange in the periphery of his vision.