The Wondrous Blue

Well, said Pliny the Elder, there you have me at a disadvantage, as I never know what you are going to say.

That is a point well made, Pliny, said I, but you know, I never know what I am going to say either.

That does not surprise me, said Pliny the Elder.

But, I continued, that is not quite true today, for I have several topics lined up waiting to be explored. First, the interesting fact that at Port Noarlunga the other day I noticed an new shade of blue I'd never seen before, shimmering above the surface of the shallows.

And what are the other topics? asked Pliny the Elder.

Pliny! I cried. Pelicans if you must know, and possibly seals, but don't you want to know more about the wondrous shade of blue?

If it truly was wondrous, yes, he answered.

It was when I lifted up my sunglasses, I continued. I often do that at the seaside because my current sunglasses give everything a pinkish tint, in which it is all too easy to believe. I was astounded to see flat panes of blinding fluorescent blue on the surface of the shallow water in front of me. It was the exact blue of the sky, I realised at once, but until that day I had always perceived that same reflection as silver. If I tried I could still see it as silver. Or the colour of the sand underneath. But really it was this astonishing blue. I'm sure I never would have noticed it if my sunnies weren't tinted pink.

Wondrous, said Pliny. And the pelicans?

No Pliny, I said, I don't like to address more than one topic at a time. No one likes discursiveness.

Do they not? asked Pliny the Elder, looking doubtful.