The Seaside

How could I have forgotten to tell you guys? I found so much joy and peace at the seaside, the other day.  I went on a long spontaneous drive that involved views, food and rest.  It also involved getting wet and silly me, but I am always a little impressed when people refer to me as a ‘water baby’. I am like, "wait… you nodiced (know dis)?" Enough with the diversions. This is what happened.  We were passing and decided to stop and check it out. There we were trespassing on private property by the seaside. This piece of land was decorated with sheds that have seen the best of the wind and rubbles barricading the waves along the shore. Ofcourse, it seemed like an entertainment spot that served the community well up to two years ago.  All did not forsake it though and we were not alone. Another building sat to the corner of the lot and out came Alphonos, a presence that beckoned that of the owner who later drove in bumping in a pick up van.  This strong built light skin man was not just the owner of that triangle we were squatting on but of acres and acres surrounding it.   “Pick a spot”, he said when we asked if it was okay for us to stay there or travel further up the road. It never mattered to his ability to be hospitable. So, we left and went up the road, to a world renowned spot, I don't know why it’s so loved, and then returned to the forsaken.  I took off my slippers, skipped pebbles and broken glass and got my feet wet on my way to perch myself on a crude bamboo swing that left a hole in my white dress.  As I reintroduced myself to breathing, while fresh air entered my doors, I engaged in great conversation and a series of questions seeking answers the waves applauded for.  There it is, the welcomed interruption. It was draped in ital wraps with a white bow on top- I am talking about his locs and bright wide smile showing off his teeth. Him, Alphonos, the rasta man.  “Would you guys want some fried chicken and chips?” His itality in this moment and ones after became clear to me- He facilitates life with a pure and gentle spirit. He burns fire not on those blind or averse to the livity but he burns with love in hope it will captivate and consume.  The bird was very well done and served ‘ot. My heart was warmed by the peace this space provided even though the owner had left.  And before the offer of drinks was made, my heart swelled and chuckled- the result of another gentleman entering the picture- a little boy.  He could not have been more than 7 years old and 4 ft tall. The fella walked out beyond the shore of the sea and pensively awaited the arrival of the waves, only to toss the dog in. Between the dog’s reaction, the overjoyous smirk on his face, and him repeating it twice, I am not sure which one I found funniest.  That was a free show and an intentionally free meal. After we had settled, felt full and rested in mind and heart, we left a little change in the true Jamaican way.  That experience was good vibes, love and kindness. And as the only woman that was there, I kinda felt like I was in a nursing session with Mother nature, fully supported and girded by all these men- out of love, honor and respect. Did I just spoil this by introducing the construct of gender? I wonder where my mind would take me deshelling “Father Nature”?