A cold winter morning, but thoughts of Jamaica too.
In the early hours of this morning, I stood in the doorway here at home, watching the snow fall quietly, gently to the ground. It spread its clean white cape across the sidewalks, lawns and buildings. The telephone wires were wrapped in tubes of snow, the trees and shrubs bowed gracefully under the weight of the cold chalk white accumulation.
The beauty of the newly fallen snow, cast an undeniable calmness like no other. It felt as though I was inside a snow globe, and someone had just turned it over. The small flakes tumbling all around in the gently blowing breeze. The only light was from the street lamp across the street. No cars had gone by yet, no footprints on the sidewalk. Just calm, quiet. The flakes twinkled in shadowy images under the street lamp.
Soon the plows would be by with sand and salt, leaving ugly scars on the roadway and big slushy piles of dirty snow along the gutters of the street. But for these few moments, I felt a sense of peacefulness. Almost as though I was the only person alive at that moment.
It’s very much like that in Jamaica, when I’m standing on the balcony of our room at CTI, just as the sun begins to rise in the Eastern sky. There are hardly any sounds, no people on the beach, no birds in the sky. Just the gentle lapping of ocean waves as they continually caress the sandy shoreline.
Soon, I will see Delroy, way down near Bayside, dragging his wooden rake behind him, erasing all traces of the day that was. Making way for the day that was just beginning.
With each pass that he makes, the footprints in the sand, disappear, leaving in their place, long lines from the rake.
Now and then, he stops to straighten some of the lounge chairs, picking up left over towels that are a reminder of
someone’s enjoyment from the previous day.
Here and there, a large branch or other debris, must be moved in order for him to continue on his early morning mission. Bringing order and alignment to the beach, readying it for yet another sun filled, fun filled day at this tropical oasis.
But for now, those treasured early morning routines would have to give way to the harsh reality of winter coat, gloves and boots. It was time to go to work.
As I left the comfort of my living room, and headed for my car, I kept those warm images of Delroy, dressed in his bathing suit, tee shirt and water shoes, in the forefront of my mind. Armed with my snowbrush, to clean off the car, I ventured forth into the very early cold winter morning.
I have an automatic car starter, and engine was already running when I reached the car.
Brushing off the piles of snow on the car roof I was a long way from the tiny Caribbean island that we have come to think of as our “second home”. With most of the white stuff now off my vehicle, I hurried inside the car where the heat was just beginning to blow through the vents. As I started the windshield wipers, and watched them race back and forth as they cleared the remaining snow, I heard them making that whoosh whoosh sound. I put on my headlights and immediately, all the tiny snowflakes put on a dazzling show as they flittered about in the glare of the light. And as I backed out of the driveway, heading for work, I was forced to clear my mind of my friend Delroy and the warm sands he was treading across. I had to focus on what would be a slightly treacherous commute. My Mustang convertible is less than suited for winter driving, and I needed to remain vigilant for any “crazies” that might be out in this early morning. The ride is usually about ten minutes, but today, it would be more like a half hour of slippery roads and icy conditions. All thoughts of “home”, surf and sun and sand, were replaced with almost blinding conditions through the snow. No time to think of the tiny cove where CTI is nestled, so far away in Jamaica.
For now, I must wait out the remaining days of January, February, March and ten days in April, when we will, once again, return for two outstanding weeks of sharing laughter and merriment. Seeing old friends, telling new stories and forgetting all about this cold snowy morning here in New England.
But between now and then, every once in a while, you may see a wry little smile cross my face. My eyes will fill with excitement as a stray thought or two may interrupt my day to day activities, as I think about my aging, gracious hostess that will greet me, and comfort me and put my mind, body and spirit in a reggae state of mind. For now ,all I can say is, soon come, mon. Soon come.
