Island dream

I lay semi-conscious and semi-naked on warm black sand. Sand ground from the earth’s bile, spat out in a fiery frenzy and then cooled and pounded for eons by the relentless hammer of the sea. The same sea that spawned life slaps and roars and tries incessantly to draw that life back into its belly. As I lay there drifting on the surface of my daydreams I am aware of the surf’s roar and hiss and protest as it bangs its head against the rocky beach, spitting foam and detritus from its watery maw. A dying tangerine sun reaches out its spiny fingers to clutch desperately at coral colored stratiform clouds to keep it from sinking into the inky blackness of the ocean. An ocean gilded by the suns fading reflection. But it can’t hold on. Marine iguanas huddle in a dimming pool of light trying to suck out the last iota of warmth from the dying rays before cold grips their muscles into immobility. Sea air washes over me as the scent of salt and rotting vegetation nips at my nose. Gulls argue loudly in the distance over fishing rights. Frigate birds lay gently on the wind as they coast in lazy circles watching for fish that the gulls are too busy fighting over to see. I try to absorb the beauty and tranquility of my surroundings the way the iguanas try to absorb the sun, not wanting to miss one speck of it. Somewhere inland I hear the bleat of feral goats as they call to each other in the marshaling darkness. Nannies calling their kids home to dinner. I become aware of a giant tortoise standing like a stony sentinel, totally immobile, where the beach transitions into jungle. I wonder if he is watching or imagines he is being watched. They live sometimes for centuries they say. I wonder if he has ever moved. My muscles ache in sympathy. A familiar scent gently tickles my nose. I turn my head to see. Near me rests the most magnificent creature on the island. A creature whose odors and habits have become increasingly familiar as I explore my island dreams. It lies stretched out to its luxuriant full length covered only by a splash of black sand, its eyes protected by thick dark glass lids. It stirs and I touch its belly. A gesture of reassurance. Its head rolls lazily in my direction. The thick dark glass lids covering its eyes prevent me from seeing if it is looking at me or is still lost in sleep. To provide another with peace and contentment is the greatest form of peace and contentment. My ears become conscious of a distant drumming. The gentle thumping becomes a pounding that fades the sound of the surf into silence. It is as if I am in a quiet empty room with no other sounds save for the thumping. Thumping. I realize it is my heart. As I gaze at this wonderful, beautiful creature I feel waves of emotion washing over me. At first I think it is the surf. Then I realize it is the ebb and flow of the powerful tides of love. Mist settles on my eyes and runs down my cheeks as I understand just how lucky I have become. Like a pearl from the sea she is a gift most rare and precious. I look up at the evening sky and watch as the night splashes a necklace of diamonds across the advancing darkness. With each new point of light that winks on, I say a little prayer of thanks to have her in my dreams. In my life.