I awake to a strident symphony of birdsong and the rhythmic
crash of the waves. The night chill lingers in the air as the sun slowly rises
above the rooftops and the trees to bathe the relatively deserted beach in a
comforting warm glow. In the distance, a group of fishermen launch their boat
with high hopes and muffled laughter; maybe the nets will be full today.
Gradually, solitary strollers and joggers appear along the
shoreline. Some looking intently down as they pass; others gazing out to sea;
too few take cognisance of everything that surrounds them. A young man steps in
a pile of dog shit and a comical interlude ensues as he hops into the surf with
a look of dismay and mild disgust on his sunburnt face. A couple of old lovers
walk contentedly, hand in hand with demure, all-knowing smiles and sparkling
eyes greeting the sun kissed morning.
In the distance on the watery horizon, the larger fishing
boats begin to gather and along the shoreline the sunbathers appear. The
recently arrived in search of a tan to cover their pale winter skins and the
soon to depart claiming their favourite spots on loungers and the sand with
golden haired, tottering toddlers: the elderly with an unhurried calm and the
young skipping and doing cartwheels with exuberant abandon.
I sip my coffee and watch from my elevated perch; the sound
of a lovers’ calm breathing mixing naturally with the morning and the
pitter-patter of my fingers upon the keyboard.
**************
The ocean’s sibilant lullaby drowns the foreign chatter.
Gentle waves harmonize its timeless, ever-changing call-and-response with the
shore. A group of local boys walk by with wide eyes hidden behind mirror-shades
gawking: near-naked foreign flesh, tanning unconcerned and on display. Buying
drinks, paying for lunch, return flights and receipts in the bag with the
souvenirs and gifts: little bric-a-brac and memories bubble-wrapped.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment