Easter Rock

STJ has it's own mini piton, sitting by the road above Hawksnest Bay and the Oppenheimer community center. It's Easter Rock.

The island story is: every year, the night before Easter, this huge egg shaped boulder makes its way in the darkness down the steep hillside to the sea. When it gets to the shore, it takes a drink, then returns to its perch before the morning sun rises over Peace Hill. And waaaay before the first people drive by it and notice it's missing. It's true, I swear!

If you doubt it then explain why even after the driest droughts and the driest nights, Easter Rock is still wet early Easter morning. Huh?

 I believe it.

There is no other rock like this on STJ. Scientists think it's  part of the Caribbean tectonic plate which millions of Easters ago met the oncoming North American plate. Bang. Easter Rock. This happened on island time - sloooowly.
And yes, I do know there was no Easter millions of years go.

Happy Easter, Rock!

Anyway, island time has left me today, time is flying. There isn't much to do before we go. I watered the plants, we checked the sprinkler system, George did the laundry, I cleaned. Soon we'll cover the furniture with sheets, pack whatever we're taking back with us, print out our tickets and charge up our electronic toys (my cell will have a purpose other than as a clock!).

Our atty. came by to go over the property encroachment case. One hour, $250. Don't you love it how other people do inconsiderate things that are clearly in the wrong and wind up costing YOU aggravation and money? George says sometimes dealing with people here is like being in Bosnia. I don't think he means Bosnia, I think he means Botswana or Mogadishu. 

Shipwreck held a "There Is No Blues Fest This Year Fest" today. By the time we got there for dinner we thought it would be over but in the way of island surprizes, it was going full steam. And what a show it was! Everyone was having such a good time, lots of familiar faces, many wasted on beer and rum. The band "Locals on the 8's" were very good. They actually played music from this decade!  Man, how these drunks can cut loose. They didn't get the memo that Woodstock is over. Too bad I didn't get a video of the guy trying to breakdance on the concrete. 

George took this one with his cell phone. Let it load. There's a cameo appearance by none other than Sloan at the end (annoyed at his cell). What a happy ending for us, music and dancing. 

 Leaving here is bittersweet - I'm happy to be going home, so looking forward to a life that's completely me; one of family, limitlessness and convenience. That said, parting from friends, the wonderful garden, the simple life, the creatures that have been a part of my world here - is sad. Where will "my" bees get water? Will "my" crabs be ok? "My" birds will come for their sugar and there will be none. 

Things change, because we want them to or not. All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves. Things come and go from our lives more often than they remain. The feelings fade away, it's self eroding to dwell, you have to move on. 

Grasp the moment while you can and be happy, be grateful. If you don't, doesn't it devalue the time you did have?

Easter Rock gets itself to the beach and back whether we are here or not. The birds, the crabs, the bees will have benefited from the small part I shared in their lives but will all move on without regrets or sadness. It's a good lesson to learn.

Peace Hill

Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
Remember
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land.  

Pablo Neruda, Selected Poems



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTyVjw_e8HI