“I love a little bumble in the morning” I had planned to write and post, thinking about bumble bees bumbling around. You have to be careful about what you write though. What does it really mean, to bumble and was that really what I was doing? When I came home after my morning meeting with the sea I googled “bumble” and my screen filled up with links to a dating app I didn’t know about. The logo matched what I had found on the sidewalk. Bumble, unlike other dating apps, is focused on shifting power to the women, who are required to send the first message in the case of matching with the opposite sex. A feminist Tinder. I hadn’t really meant that kind of bumbling when I read the word.
I continued my search. To bumble. “Move or act in an awkward or confused manner.” Maybe not either. “There is something terrible about seeing others go about life with rational deliberateness while we continue to bumble around.” That was more what I was thinking of, although I am not sure if how I read it is how it is meant. “Electrons bumble down the wire, about the speed of spreading honey, they say.” That one is lovely.
So how about my own bumbling? Although with some deliberateness - I walk the same route most mornings and always leave half an hour before sunrise - it often has the speed of spreading honey, I stop when there is something that asks for attention and there are always many things. And once at the beach there are so many reasons to linger and observe and move around slowly.
It is a date. A date with the sea. Masculine here, el mar. And I am not sure if I am in power. Yes, I choose when I meet and I choose how long I stay and I choose when I leave but I always come back, no matter if she’s rough or distant or cold.
Posted by monique besten at 12:07