Arriving in the port we set out into the town. Realizing that the rain had begun and would not stop the entire day, we bundled ourselves up and began a rainy walk to the old neighborhood. Walking up a street the old stone wall came into view, which stood guarding the town with its might wood bridge crossing the moat. Colonia was a small port down, which stood guard at the entrance of the river. We took time to cross the wooden draw bridge, which was down opening the old town. We climbed the wall and stood next to the might cannon, which looked out over where we had just walked. It was such a great time. As we continued to walk through the old town, we saw the old construction and the cobble stone streets, where pirates, colonists, and spanish soldiers used to be. We took some time to eat and buy some few gifts, but the cold began to set in upon us, so we took some time to drink some coffee. I ate ice cream. After a couple rounds of Euchre, I headed back out into the cold and the setting of what sun we could see. Along with a few others we found remains of an old wall, which faced the sea. With the wind whipping and the waves crashing we climbed the wall. It was there we stood for at least a half hour, although our faces were cold and we could not feel our hands we stood upon the wall.
It was upon the wall that you could feel such power around you. Nature raised it self up and roared at us, but we stood defiant in the face of the sea. The wind attacked us trying to dethrone us from the wall, while the waves crashed taunting us. Power seemed to swell around us as we looked over the grey sky. Some stood silent in the face of such power, but I felt the need to scream out for more. Feeling as if a battle was coming I screamed out calling it upon us, ready for what was in front of me. I wanted to see the power of God rise up from the sea.
If the day had been a little warm I would of been found on the other side of the wall, among the large flat rocks, upon which the waves beat. I would be shouting as the waves crashed upon the rocks to kick up mist. Sadly in the cold rain, I remained upon the wall. As we walked away, we could not help at marvel at the power of God, who controls such things. I believe we would of been content to remain there in front of the power sea, mighty wind, and cold rain. We were standing simply in front of nature beckoning its power upon us, asking for it to give us all it had.
As we walked way with the wind to our backs, we found ourselves on the opposite side of the peninsula, which faced the river. A wooden board walk penetrated the river, providing us an opportunity to enter the gran river. The waves stood still and the wind hummed, as the lampposts lit the misty night. Walking out to the end, we waited. Standing in silence for a moment, while thirty sailboats rocked as cradles in the calm river. A peace came over us. There was no screaming or beckoning, only quiet words shared, as the night seemed to bring warmth to our souls.
Remaining for a moment and being joined by our crazy comrades, the night seemed to lose its stillness, but the boats could still be seen rocking among the small waves and the wind could still be felt gently moving out hair. Although we ourselves did not match the occasion. Finally we made our way back to the port, played a few more rounds of cards, and headed back across the river. Actually the boat first entered the sea, which was so fierce and powerful a short time before, followed by traveling up the calm river to Buenos Aires. We had travel by the waves, been mocked by them, and rested in their stillness. It was truly a remarkable day among the waves.
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