It is the Caribbean Sea that most satiates my need for peace and serenity in troubled times, every ounce of stress and strife progressively exorcised with each successive wave. Second place in this regard:
I was in my 20’s living in Florida the only time I had an address directly on the beach, making the bush that surrounded my early-childhood home on the East End of St. Croix my preferred spot for retreating from whatever ugliness may have been prevailing in the real world at the time.
Among the trees and thick guinea grass there were no arguments; no fights, school exams, or deadlines. We had our own little reality there, my brothers and I; one in which we were the heroes we’d read about or seen in movies.
A scurrying mongoose would double as a demon; a lizard, a dragon.
Birds sang our soundtrack. Bees and jack spaniels were our deadliest enemies. Wild mango, genip, and papaya provided endless fuel for our fun.
Only the occasional deer might stop our adventuring, the sight of the rare French imports superseding our fantasies.
These heady days are long gone, of course, though I still revel in retreating to the bush along my Caribbean travels. The fantasy is well-faded, but the tranquility remains as strong and therapeutic as ever…
Your Monthly Moment of Zen.