I like short stories like this, snapshots, little windows. There isn’t much in terms of narrative arc, little you could call plot, and to drag it out for many more paragraphs would be to stretch it too thin, but there’s something there in that moment. It’s almost haiku like.
I love your idea of the stories with the connection of starting, endings, journeys, global. As I saw my dad for the last time at the airport as they waved me off after my visit from the other side of the world, and a year later a phone call told me he had died, this touched a chord too.
By the way the beaches of Namibia are long and glorious, but in my experience in the south of the country it's almost impossible to stand up straight from the gale off the Atlantic, and there are no trees! Could have made for a different story.
I love your idea of the stories with the connection of starting, endings, journeys, global. As I saw my dad for the last time at the airport as they waved me off after my visit from the other side of the world, and a year later a phone call told me he had died, this touched a chord too.
By the way the beaches of Namibia are long and glorious, but in my experience in the south of the country it's almost impossible to stand up straight from the gale off the Atlantic, and there are no trees! Could have made for a different story.