Two concerts later and I saw the unthinkable.

It was not planned.

Most memorable moments are born in this way, without expectation.

They seem to occur out of the blue.

People come through.
Nature does too.

Moments collide in perfect harmony and surprises fulfill wishes both spoken and silent.

That night we could barely hear, music so loud we almost lost our voices and hearing, yet our eyes adjusted to the light when we arrived.

In our quest to uncover the summer’s most mysterious and elusive occurrence we met a family who were visiting the state for the first time.

Another family gave up.

I still asked away, unwilling to walk away.

Until I met someone who stayed, just long enough to uncover what we all sought.

Unfazed by the tripod strewn haphazardly on the sand.

I would still try.

She too, a friend and fellow live music audiophile, was persistent in the search.

Now silently we forged on in the still of night near the waters edge.

And with a wave of a hand we discovered the unthinkable, an ultraviolet blue sparkle in the water that was only visible to the naked eye.

I think caught it on film, yet you’ll have to be the judge of that piece of poetry set to music.

In looking back I still wonder if the plankton we saw were energized by Fukushima’s nuclear spill into our shared oceans, allowing water into the sea or does this all occur quite naturally?