Earlier, her grandfather noted that we might get caught in a rainstorm if we strolled for too long. “Oh, what a pessimist,” I teased him. “If it showers, then we’ll get to see rainbows.”
“Someone who sees rain instead of rainbows,” I explained. “In a pessimist’s world, something will go wrong. In an optimist’s world, things will go right.”
Her brow creased in confusion, but then we got distracted by the monk seal that blubbered up onto the beach, ready for a long day’s sleep. We listened to the volunteer speak while he set up ropes to keep away the curious.
“It’s breeding season. These seals are extremely busy in the ocean. They come out to the beach to rest up, and they can sleep here for hours, or days, before returning to the important business of procreating.”
Oh no. Sure enough, Sophie asked the man, “What’s procreating?”
Fortunately, a sea turtle provided a diversion, and our walk continued for two miles as we traversed lava rock and conversations about cranky little brothers and ballet lessons and how the Bird-of-Paradise got its name.
We sank onto a wooden bench, rocking back and forth as we stared at the waves move in and out, in and out.
“You don’t sound much like an optometrist,” Sophie declared to me.
“What?” I asked, wondering what eyeglasses and vision had to do with New England weather.
The poor girl blushed and closed her mouth tightly, as if she’d said something wrong.
“An optometrist?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”
“You know, you don’t sound like you believe in rainbows.”
Oh. Damn. She was absolutely right. “An OPTIMIST!” I burst out laughing. “Sophie, you are so right. I am an optimist, and I just sounded like the opposite. Here’s to you, my wise one.”
She grinned and hugged me, and I’ll tell you, my vision suddenly became much clearer.
How about you? Do you have an “optometrist’s” vision?
Thanks to Google Images for whale photo. The others are mine..