This is an old post from July that accidentally did not get published when it was written. It was from my work and play adventures in the French West Indies. So, read on if you like and periodically fan yourself from the heat of the sun rays that beat down upon your imagination.
The point is that if we all could find a place, a passage, a hideaway, a stolen moment unseen, and if we could remember to savor the smell, sight, and sound of it – however long it lasts – we would know what it feels like to be most alive. ------------------
Our time on the islands came to a satisfying but welcoming
end. For the past three weeks, I awoke
early every morning to work while the others slept. Everything kept its sense
of stillness in these hours. I saw the
waves roll in, the sun rise higher, and the fisherman and pier workers begin
their daily clanging, sorting, and boat preparations for the day. We all knew to expect the humming and surging
of pier construction machinery every morning (7am to be exact), an unfortunate
timing of events for us during our stay.
Some days my work rolled into the afternoon; other days only
until lunch, after which we’d spend family time at a beach of choice. It was an appreciated change of scenery and
rhythm in which to complete the pile of work before me.
We will not likely forget the view from the porch, the hike
to the most beautiful beach we’d ever seen, or the unpleasant ferry ride
over. We will recall our (almost) daily
drives, like short bursts of roller coaster thrills up steep inclines and round
crazy dare deviled corners. We will
smile thinking of our local walks along the narrow patchwork of concrete in
route to our frequented “L’Epicerie de Corossol” store, the unending swim to
the sand bar, and the old woman who welcomed and waved until we had the courage
to ask her to show us how she dries palm leaves to make them into various
baskets, hats, and pouches while sitting on her front porch chair. She couldn't hear us well, but she was a lovely
islander with simple movements and a contented smile, and we often saw her
sitting with her family on the front porch in the evening.
There were daily inconveniences, creative meals, surprises,
and sometimes desperate gestures to remain cool or comfortable from bugs or
heat or both, but the routine settled in our mind, became known and expected, simply because we stayed for a duration of more than a few days...seeded in
our soul against that paintable clear blue sky.
