An ordinary Thursday afternoon and a friend invited me on his boat. My friend’s boat is a fashion model of elegance and femininity and five of us floated away on the pretty craft, mostly adrift in private worlds. I know I was. Even in Paradise reality can cast insidious shadows causing a partial eclipse of the soul.
From the marina we chugged beneath a bridge and then gathered speed over waters in jades and lime greens and all under a radiant sky. Careful wending through channels and cuts took us out to the Gulf of Mexico and an expanse of ocean dotted with far-away islands.
The boat motored smoothly and cooling spray doused us with baptismal purification. Long slim fish cut through the surface, slicing like so many knives, before vanishing in raucous splashes. Clearly visible were squads of barracudas tacking right and left, chasing tiny fish moving in masses of fast darting escape.
Approaching the shallows, the islands devolved into mere tangles of mangroves. Someone explained the history of these local mangroves, and their ritual of traveling as bobbing green sticks across stretches of sea, until they meet with a desired depth. Then they secure themselves, throwing down an anchor, gradually knitting a system of sticks that downward produce roots and upward generate limbs sprouting canoe shaped shiny green leaves. Except for the irregular yellow leaf which is dedicated to absorbing toxic salts from the seawater. The leaf will die and fall off, thus known as the sacrificial leaf.
We anchored before a half-moon beach. To a view of perfection, perfumed by a dense honeyed air, we lunched. Sated we ventured into the clear, cool water, each of us in different directions. I swam down into the silence and watched a manta ray emerge, upending the sandy seabed, waggling off into the wicked liquid.
Back on dry land we attempted an inland stroll which was cloyingly hot, and immediately I was sweating. Our trek soon ended when we met with man-eating insects and a swamp that welcomed our footsteps like a salivating mouth.
With mangroves up close you see the vulnerability; the negative space being wider than any supports, barely strong enough for the tiniest of birds to land within. Reminding me of people I have known who appear, from a distance, robust and independent; like islands.
On the return trip, perhaps it was the time of day and exactly how the late afternoon sunlight reflected but the mangrove islands, now black cylinders on the horizon, appeared to levitate above bars of glowing gold, shaped like space ships ready for takeoff. A cleansing occurs under the broiling sun. As with the photosynthesis of the mangroves, the salts of reality can collect and fall away, like teardrops. As we sped across calm ocean the sunset exploded with showy pinks and deepening oranges. With all my sensations tickled my equilibrium was restored and my appreciation in life renewed.
In Key West there is no such thing as an ordinary Thursday afternoon.
Ron, I always adore and feel inspired by your comments. Thank you.
thanks Kim, in a word!
The subtle but perfect coloring, the dazzling motion and your masterful knowledge of your environment make for a multidimensional feast of the mind’s eye. Thank you for the voyage, Christina
I felt/smelled/saw/experienced every detail of this adventure right along with you. For me- this was the best ever of your KW writings. Thank you !
Sending love. r
Evocative!
thank you Milan!!
I had forgotton those idylic(sic) moment on the water!! Soo scared of the Sun!! But your words,Christina, are bringing it all back to me!! and how much I miss it! The purrfect story for a summer sunday afternoon!!!Thank you Darling!!xxxm
ah, yes Suz, we would feel the same way…! thanks!
You beautifully captured my Wednesday-boat-days! I tell everyone my Wednesdays spent floating on the ocean rejuvenate me for the rest of my week, invigorating my soul. Salt spray, humid breezes, endless sunshine, deserted mangrove islands—my idea of heaven. Add friends and some sea creatures and it’s pure bliss.
I love that you incorporated the sacrificial leaf—such an amazing plant’s adaptation, and such an important metaphor of life. Brilliant.
And the “floating” islands in the late afternoon–amazing aren’t they?! Oh the wonders of nature. And the wonder of your words! You never fail to delight with your descriptions. Thank you!
thanks!
thank you!
Marvelous….felt the words
Brava!