A very pleasant morning to each and everyone of you. This morning I got up feeling very nostalgic. As a kid, this was my favorite time of the year and happiest time of my life. This was the start of my summer vacation and if I was not traveling, that meant it was going to be spent on my now deceased grand mothers estate, some sixty acres of rolling green hills, streams, springs gushing with water. Endless fruit trees that were loaded with the most delicious of fruit. It was a time to experience a freedom that I never was accustomed too... I could run wild all day, giving no thought about the future...... It was the only time I lived in the here and now......... The following story captures a day in my life in Eden many years ago. DRY RIVER As I lay here looking at the ceiling, memories of my childhood spring to light. Its July and school is out, so my father sends me to spend the holidays with my mother and family. I am bursting with excitement. I cannot wait to see my brothers, sisters, and cousins and to begin our summer adventures in a place called Dry River. I awake to the sound of whispers. As my consciousness returns from its nocturnal travels, I am able to distinguish the voices. It’s my Grandma and Papa. I reckon it’s about 5 a.m. for everything is cloaked in darkness and that is the time Grandma gets up to start breakfast. Wait a minute; it’s Saturday too. I sit up slowly, not trying to wake my cousins. At the same time, a cock crows its salutations to the sun. I take a deep breath and exhale in a yawn. The aroma of spice drifts along with the crisp morning air. I can make out the scent of nutmeg, cocoa, and cloves. I can feel the energy of the arrival of the new day. Everything is shaking off the residue of yesterday in anticipation of today. I make my way over to the window. It’s twilight and my eyes are adjusted by now. I see the chickens busying themselves by pecking the dirt in search of breakfast. By now, the birds have joined in the morning’s symphony and as if directed by an unseen director nature showcases her masterpiece. In the house, there is another symphony, one of pots and pans. My attention is back inside as I hear the others waking up. A scent invades my nostrils, one of salt cod and coco tea and my stomach betrays my presence with a grumble. My cousin comes over to the window too. “What we doing today?” is his greeting. “Let’s go down by the river and catch crayfish and then go look for mango,” I reply. “I know where some big Julie mango is too,” he states. “Let’s go sit on the veranda.” As we sit outside, Mount Saint Catherine rises majestically through the mist and I am captivated by her beauty. The sun changes her garments from mist and fog to green shrubbery right before our eyes and caps her peak with a cloud. Something catches my attention in the corner of my eye; it’s the cat chasing a lizard up the grapefruit tree. The trees trunk is covered in green moss, which gives it an ancient look, however far from the truth. A noise startles me from my observation of the tree to another tree where a troupe of monkeys is chattering away. The dogs are off barking up the tree behind them, breaking the tranquility of the morning. Everyone is outside now, trying to figure out the source of the commotion. The monkeys soon move on by jumping from tree to tree, or should I say flying from tree to tree for the distance they covered, and time too. Grandma shouts that breakfast is ready, so we hurry off to wash our faces and brush our teeth. The table is a large old one, been in the family for a long time too. It’s made from a hard wood and polished, giving it a deep, dark finish. At the center of the table sits a big bowl of salt cod mixed with peppers, tomatoes, onions, and coconut oil, the other bowl is filled with fried bake and a pot of hot coco tea completes the settings. By now everyone is hungry and as soon as the blessings are made, we all dive in....Everyone is talking, laughing, teasing and eating; yes, the food is like no other for the energy and vibe of the environment and people make all the difference, but then again, it’s Saturday and it’s the start of my summer adventure in a faraway place called Dry River. In memory of my grandmother, Claire Ogilivie Clyde Viechweg
Posted on: Sat, 19 Jul 2014 12:17:31 +0000
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