drowning

Earlier this year I was camping at Yallingup.

And when in Yallingup, you swim at Yallingup Beach.

It was late afternoon, it had been a warm day and the ocean was looking inviting.

So we swam, leaped over the waves and relaxed. And as the ocean has a tendency to do, it drags you in the direction it wants you to go.

The fun was soon interrupted by big waves, the kind that pummel. The kind of waves where you can't jump over it, you can't dive under it - it just knocks you over and you arms and legs are flailing underwater and you get pulled in what seems to be every which direction until suddenly you surface and take a deep breath.

But there's only a split second before the next big wave bears down upon you and suddenly you're flailing, gulping and being belted about.

And over and over it happens again.

You honestly think you're going to drown.

But just as you think you can't handle being pummeled about any more you get grabbed by the arm and pulled out of danger. You suck down air to try and make up for what seemed like the minutes you spent underwater, helpless. You're a complete mess with hair askew and sand in all the wrong places, but you're safe.

If I had to pick a story to use as a metaphor for 2009, that would be it.

I'm still waiting to be grabbed by the arm, pulled away from danger.