Puissance de PoissonsWhen I was little, my father used to take me out to the craggy shoreline near our house. We had this little hide-away spot in the rocks that noone but us knew about, not even my mother. The hide-away was this giant half-cave of rocks, the wall of which separated the inside from the direction of our house, and the rest of the world. Only if you knew where to look could you find the crevice under the third rock on the left that opened into the tunnel that led to our secret. The rock wall also curved around on either side so that the hide-away was hidden from anyone who might have been farther down the shoreline. And we would sit there, watching the steady surf loll in and out. The small white breakers lapping at the rock-platform we were sitting on, begging to join us.
Im not sure what my father thought about during those long silences in which we stared out to sea, but I know that he was deep in thought, deep in meditation. I too sometimes lulled into that meditative state, the on