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Published: August 31st 2009
I am a beach. The individual grains of sand are not unique and do not have a voice of their own. Do not mistake me, I am happy to have them, as I am happy to have the stones, sea life and trees. They all listen intently to my words, but without a voice, all they offer in return is a living burqua to cover my nakedness.
The wind tonight is acting like an amourous man, desperately trying to blow my cover away for a glimpe of my naked being.
I am wise to the wind, but must admit I do entice him occassionaly to cool me in the heat or to bring wave after wave to wash me when I have been soiled upon by a disprespectful dog or drunken human.
Tonight the wind has gotten into a huff, because I have been using the trees, whose roots go deep inside me, to flirt with the stars.
I am not seeking love or anything perverse from the stars, on this night. I am merely looking for a friend whose eyes reach a millenia further than my own to confirm the stroy the waves have brought me.
The Alexandros
Each year we do this same tour around Antiparos. We're stopped here for lunch: octupus, sea urchins, greek salad, souvlaki and all the trimmings.Why do I not simply trust the waves? Well let me tell you a story.
Many life times ago, back when only a few as old as I can remember, the waves were independent and gracefully beautiful. But like so many, even in the human world, beauty, grace and independence did not give them inner security. The moon and wind lulled the waves with intoxicating speak about the power they could have working together. Sadly, the wind soon learned that the deal struck meant it would be forever pulled by the moon's tidal urges, whilst being pushed around by the wind who would often and unexpectedly become aggressive. It has no security and independence but in rare moment its former beauty and grace can be seen.
The tiding carreid forth on the waves is that my two favouitre humans--yes that's right, beaches do choose favourite humans--are on their way here tonight. Now if the stars will confirm this then I will know the waves although being severly pushed by the aggressive wind are tonight showing their beauty by carrying messages with no malice.
If the stars give witness to the falseness of the message then I will
be forced to accept that the moon and wind have forced the waves to bring me untruths for their own amusement on this long August night. I hope the waves have told the truth for even thinking that they have been a whore to the moon and wind's whims tonight makes me sad.
While I await confirmation from the stars, let me tell you something that will pass the time and save time later in the story.
All beaches on this island are but one beach and I am that beach.
You as the reader and witness to this story cannot comprehend how time passed for me while awaiting the answer from the stars. The stars changed position in the skies, 157 new rocks washed on to my shores while 175 left to start new journeys. This is and always will be the measurement of time I must use. I can feel you are as anxious for the answer as I am, except you are measuring time in letters, words, sentences, punctuation and paragraphs.
The stars brought their answer in a dazzling display of their natural ability to shoot from one side of the sky to
the other. To you it seems like erratic streaks of light in the night sky, but to me, who sees in a way only the truly blind can, I see the message brought this night. Alas there is hope and honour still to be found in the waves, indeed my favourite humans have crossed the seas and will arrive shortly at the middle night hour.
I move all focus to the small beach near the dock and watch the orchestrated arrival of the ferry. I see Kim make her way down the steps of the ferry and am overjoyed. Shane is now on his way down but falls rapidly down the steps hard on his back. Already I am preparing myself to best help ease the pain I know he will feel in the morning.
I can see their tiredness and frustration from the day's 20 hours of travelling. They make there way across me and into town searching out their resting place for the next 5 days. I can feel in their footsteps the memory of their past visits as they confidently stride down the main street. Following the signs of such colours as blue and canary
Another sunset photo
That's for you Billiam! yellow to no avail, they are rescued with directions from their old friend and future hotelier Derek of “Lilly’s Island”.
The night time brings a restless sleep for them both with Kim being woken repetedly by noisy inconsiderate humans, who I will punish with sharp rocks for their feet for bothering my friends.
On their first proper visit to me, I watched them contentedly as a sparrow watches its young fly. They rested in chairs and bravely ignored the taunting of the wind, that still had yet to blow itself out. I felt their joy as though it were my own. I revelled in how simply they were made happy with meals from “Finari Beach Café” (were Shane made his first visit to me as a pretty 5 year old boy) and “5F” (undisputedly the best souvlaki stand in the infinite universe).
Then a small shadow fell over them in the form of jealously. Wandering the streets every clean garment worn by another was a painful reminder of the unclean state of their travelling kaftans. Inspired and challenged to make themselves climb from the shadow, they ventured the dusty roads to seek the windmill for advice. The
Fanari Beach
We like to have lunch here. This is where Shane and his family stayed when he was 5. The owner is still there and gave us a free beer. conversation with the windmill was decidedly short, in part because windmills can’t talk! Not willing to believe the trip to windmill was of no use, they used their waking eyes to scan the nearby streets. North, South, East and West. Shinning like beacon that blasted away the hovering shadow of dirty laundry, came the sweetest words a dirtied traveller can read, “Laundry: Washing and Drying in One Hour”. Off they trotted smiling, knowing that tomorrow they would be able to wash the dirty memories of hundreds of hours of wear from their clothing with fresh scents and soap.
Dinner saw Kim and Shane return to another familiar eatery. Here their souls were fed on the beauty of the sunset and their bodies were filled with food and their minds soothed with wine. Excited by the local dishes they blindly ordered a Greek salad and Country pizza. I do not say blindly to in anyway insult my favourites. They perhaps have been overwhelmed by returning here and neglected to see (visually, not true seeing) that the pizza they ordered had the exact same ingredients as the salad. Tomato overload, pepper overload, onion overload, oregano overload, feta overload.
Tonight the
noisy inconsiderate lodgings will be given a second chance by Kim and Shane.
The night again proves a restless sleep. Before Shane is awake in the morning, Kim had already ventured out and found new lodgings. It is fitting that they should move to the “Mantalena”, where Shane’s Aunt and Uncle have a history of visits.
Kim slept soundly that night content with her decision on the quiet lodgings. I wish could state the same for Shane. A millennia ago Shane was once a beautiful tanned commander of an army, whose vastness stretched beyond my sight. In his final battle he battled fiercely. As legend goes when the attacking army was vanquished by Shane, he bartered with the gods to keep the dead from entering a blissful eternal rest. They would forever be reincarnated as misquitos, the scourge of the earth.
Though neither Shane nor the misquitos remember these times they were unavoidably drawing into battle against each other.
Shane spent the night in a half dream-like state battling the real life army of mosquitos who mistakenly believed they were entitled to his skin and blood. In the morning the count was stacked in the mozzies
favour (5 red welts to no dead mozzies), the welts were exagerated due to Shane’s allergy to bites.
Shane battled back the next day and once again vanquished the mozzies in their room from this earth. (UNTIL THEIR NEXT LIVES)
They passed the day enjoying sun, swim and beach. The evening called, and dinner at the new Italian restaurant was refused due to Kim and Shane’s belief that “in Antiparos you shouldn’t need to wait in line for food”. So dinner was found elsewhere by the open table on the patio. I will not bore you with this meal, as there was nothing worth describing.
Laughter paints a brush stroke of happiness across the soul of all those who engage in it, listen to it, or make others laugh. Shane and Kim went to the open air cinema to watch a movie called “The Hangover”. Not appropriate for children but those adults who watch it must be able focus inwards and channel the child that once lived on the surface. Judging by the amount Kim and Shane laughed at the movie, their souls must contain a plethora of brush strokes that make up a beautiful picture.
Before moving to their favourite accommodation, “Lilly’s Island”, they boarded the once proud fishing vessel “The Alexandros”, to better take in every shore that makes me who I am. They swam in the open waters and observed me from a distance, they ate a traditional Greek barbeque on my shores. They had a wonderful day.
The next day jealously spread like a plague and the wind pushed the waves around once more. This give rise to the possibility that Kim and Shane may not make the ferry to Santorini. (As their friend I am both happy and sad.)
Shane gets anxious by such situations, while Kim is balanced and practical. With flights booked from Santorini to Copenhagen, they try for their ferry the next day. Watching them cross the water from my shores to Paros (where their large ferry will dock for onward adventures), I silently wish the rest of their journeys to be uneventful and peaceful.
Their ferry arrives to take them even further from my shores. I am sad to see them go, but trust in their promises to return here.
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Mom
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the prose of a poet
Loved this entry! Could take it with a little editing and create a storybook!