As with any teenager, there are special moments that happened and come back to linger in the recesses of our minds and then are inexplicably pried loose and left to ferment. When that happens, I write and write and write – mostly for myself and sometimes I share – sometimes. It is the fiction that I share most often. That said ***
It was late at night and I could not sleep. I put on some shorts and my sandals (no shirt) and my dog and I went for a walk. Looking back, the house seemed to have shrunk. We walked a while and found myself at AYO and I realized I had never been on the top at night. My dog went to a small tree, fell to the ground and rolled himself into a ball while I climbed the familiar passage to the top. And there I was, on top of the world. Me. I was a young man on top of his world. My senses were flying in all directions and my mind was humming.
Me – Young man – on this ageless massive boulder – on top of my world. Me. My world. Mine Spreading my arms and facing the winds I leaned slightly forward. I was surrounded by darkness, joyous healthy darkness and the skies expanded beyond my wildest expectations. Stars shot bullets of light at my eyes that were caught as images in my mind. The universe was cloudless. Instinctively I took off my sandals and laid down on the flattest part I could find and felt Aruba on my back. Think of it - think of it just for a moment. To sleep barefooted and barebacked on a massive boulder on your home island.
As I lay there, it came to me - Salt. My nostrils assured me that the smell of ocean salt drifted over me. Of this I am sure. In the stillness I heard children playing on white sands - almost as if it were day and I was with them. The sound of wooden craft on ocean and winged metal hulls landing on asphalt all came to my senses and without a word, it all painted the picture that best described my island There was no need for anything written. Nothing had to be said. It was all evident - it just was. I knew that the sun would come to visit and my dog would join me in my walk back to the house. He - my dog - is reliable that way.
In the meantime, I let my island bathe my senses and with great intention, did not dry those senses off.
Just think of it. The thought of it. Think of it.
I wish I could tell you about my love for this island - yet I know words cannot.