Eighth desire?

Ever wonder how someone can put a number on the most amazing sights in the world? Supposedly, there are seven wonders that stand out above all the rest, and that leaves me to ponder this question: How can you limit beauty to a statistic? The most beautiful thing in the world to you, may not necessarily be the most beautiful thing in the world to me, right? I mean, for example, what if the lost city of Atlantis really existed? That it was real, not a hoax, and that it was really submerged under water on the ocean floor? Somehow, somehow, the power elite would make sure to exploit it, pillage it, and maybe even open up a twenty-four hour McDonald's in it. Just imagine that - snorkelling your way through a mythical city, only to come across the golden arches, and a pimple faced teenager asking, "Do you want fries with that?" It is all too surreal at times.

I, myself, have lived in what some refer to as one of the most beautiful places in the world...not the most beautiful place I have ever seen, for through all my travels, that still remains to be St. John's, Newfoundland. But, anyway I digress, and instead, choose to share with you a memory of that other beautiful place I spoke of. It took place on a pebbled cove on a mid-winters night, not so many years ago. Here you go, and may you enjoy.

I once had a girl tell me that Vancouver Island was unofficially considered the eighth wonder of the world. I would have to agree because no where else on this earth has time seemed to stand still. At least, for one night, it did for me, anyway. I remember standing with a friend, under the heavens on a clear winter night. Snow does not fall there so much as the rains make their presence known. I was observing a glorious sunset, asplendor in all colours of orange and rust red; all mingled in with a light blue sky. It seemed to split the horizon in half, splintering rays of dust into the nether regions of early dusk.

There is an energy on the Island, an untapped source of life that its inhabitants understand, and I could just imagine so many others watching the same sight. The sunset rose in the sky, sending out plumage like a...hold on a second. It was then that I stepped back and completely surveyed the scene. It was then that I realized it wasn't a sunset after all. It was a full moon rising.

My God, it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I never thought the moon could light the sky upon entry like that, so much so that it overshadowed the sun's exit. It rose high above the stars, proud in all its glory over all of us earthbound mortals. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I noticed how calm the waters were. They were stretched out to a glass surface, striving to finally reach their maker. The ocean was becoming a concrete finish that I could almost walk upon; but no, only one man has ever been able to do that.

I slid my arms around my friend, and felt her hands grab hold of mine. We stood there until the moon reached its apex, and then stood a little while longer to pay our respects to the Universe. I know we all have had moments in our lives when time stood still, when even the birds stopped singing their songs of praise to Nature. But, to me, in the long run it comes down to what my eyes have seen, and what they have yet to see. Will she be there with me when I see my most beautiful sight in the world? For some reason, I know that she will. For the real true wonders of the world are all around us, in our waking hours. The one true wonder is Life. Grab it. Run with it. And by all means, live it. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"An age is called Dark, not because the light fails to shine, but because people refuse to see it."

- James Mitchener