Unexpected

We had been cycling a full day through the woods and fields of Central Scotland now. The weather was rough and cold and we were dragging a tent and sleeping bags with us.

I was the Supervisor of the Food, a Designor of Dishes. My compagnon was the Builder of Tents. During the trip I made sure we regularly visited local corner shops, providing our pockets with power snacks and icey lemonades. My fellow cycler was an artist in shelter construction, showing his skills during dusk, while I was blowing the fire.

This task assignment was nothing we had decided upon, it had just happened by the tendency of our personalities, by the move our hands. That day though I felt some slight resentment against my newly aqcuired responsibilities, so I neglected checking our goods in stock. I hoped that ignoring would magically solve.

After 63 km of cycling we ended up near the Atlantic ocean, finding nothing but a rocky campsite with an even rockier ground. Sitting on a rock, we shared the wideness of the view. The tent was standing, and in the night darkness, with a dark breeze playing with our braids, we shared one small hard-boiled egg.

How the absence of something can prove to be so much more.