That afternoon when the Fisherman came back to our camp after a first fishing trip, he wanted to take me to some magical fishing place he had discovered... so I went along.
We parked our car down by the river and got
out. The heat must had done something to
my body and mind because I remember moving like in a slow motion, silent
film... plop plop plop plop... no
synchronized recorded sound whatsoever.
Nature transmitted her sounds through muted gestures.
It was a beautiful place with the banks of
the river covered up in giant elephant
ear plants and quiet waters where the sunlight played atop the tranquil waters making
little sparkly bubbles. You could see
the water turtles basking everywhere under the endless blue sky. I was entranced. But when I looked around, I couldn't find the
Fisherman anywhere. I stood on a rock
and looked around and beyond, then decided to start down the path to see if I
could find him further down...
What I found instead was the creepiest thing ever... the lonesome ruins of some old abandoned building covered in a tangled thickets of hawthorn and bramble. Oh I was certain I was seeing the ghost of a woman in white walking amidst the emptied ruins, and there, over there on a lapidated old window a woman and her child looking out. I was so petrified I started running towards the opposite direction, away from the place... not a single living soul was to be seen anywhere around...
Luckily, I finally found the Fisherman down
at the banks, hidden by long grasses... the water looked like a polished mirror
where the sky reflected and gave out the impression of a bottomless river, and
you didn't know if you were really looking into the water or at an unfathomably
deep and infinite sky... it was truly magical.
When we came back to our gypsy caravan after a few hours of fishing and enjoying nature, we
found out that some type of animal, or rodent of some kind had made a huge hole
on the plastic lid of the container where we keep our food and had ripped open
the bag of bread, side to side. Flies
where inside the bag, and the cooler was swarming with ants. We had never seen anything like that in all of
the gypsy camping years of our lives... not even in all the bear habitat places
we've camped.
Our gypsy caravan felt so cozy and warm and
I just love it there... I will spare you details of my dreams that night where ants
crawled into bed with us, and I felt them biting little bites on the back of my
neck... was it really a dream? All
throughout the night it was like that, until the Fisherman changed places with
me, and I finally fell asleep immediately.
It was a magical morning the following
morning. After breakfast, the Fisherman
took me to another lovely place he had discovered earlier that morning and I
can only tell you that all and every little trouble were worthwhile right there
and then... because it was such a magical,
beautiful glorious place, and all our headaches were forgotten, and the morning
brimmed in its light and breezes coming from the waterfalls...
All in all, it was a beautiful trip and
a truly lovely place. And isn't it life
composed of beautiful and not so beautiful moments too! The 'not so beautiful moments' are those you
will look back later and have to smile, it may be a bittersweet smile, but
those moments are written in the pages of our souls in magical golden ink, and
whenever we open up that book and read through we're reaffirmed
We want to come back again in the late fall
or maybe early winter. It will be like
our summer camping time up north
No comments:
Post a Comment