The weather here has been extremely hot and humid for the past few days. Very much like Jamaica. Yah. That hot. Of course, when we are in Jamaica, we love the hot humid days with just little breeze. But that exact same weather condition that we love in the Caribbean, is just plain oppressive back here.
For one thing, we usually have on a lot more textile when we work or play back here. And that, just plain sucks.
But earlier today, I pulled up a chair on the deck, sat back and lifted my head to face the sun. Stretching out my neck and raising my shoulders in some attempt to feel even more of the hot glowing sun. Within seconds, sweat was forming on my bald head and immediately heading down the back of my neck and over my forehead, dripping down into my lap.
I had brought out some ear plugs to block out the sounds around me. Birds chirping, the whistle of the wind as it drifts past my ears, cars on the street, voices. I wanted to see myself on the island.
With my eyes closed, sweat absolutely pouring down my face, arms, neck, I could see myself in my lounge chair, with Syl sitting right beside me. I made it as real as I could possibly make it.
I took a deep cleansing breath, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly through my lips. And again.
With no outside sounds to distract me, I focused on the sound of the ocean waters as they rumble towards the back side of the island. How they throw themselves at the razor sharp coral and throw up huge plumes of foamy white sea spray. Their movement is relentless, repetitive and reassuring.
Now I can make out the sound of voices near by. I can hear them laughing. There are some people in the pool and the sound of the water splashing grabs my attention. I am reluctant to open my eyes for fear of losing my train of thought.
I have turned my lounger to the same position it would be in at this time of day. Of course, as always, facing the sun. Watching it slowly disappear below the distant horizon. Another Jamaican day is melting away. Soon, the bright beautiful moon will replace the harshness of the daylight. Soft breezes will scamper about, brushing your arm, blowing over your shoulder. Yes. There is still the evening to enjoy.
Wait. Are those tears? Why am I crying? No. That’s just sweat. I mean, after all, why would I be crying?
That half hour was pleasant. My shorts have now absorbed a lot of that bodily fluid that leaked out of my pores. I feel as though I just say in a puddle of water. But for that brief interlude, I was almost there. Warm, comfortable, relaxed and in a state of mind that you don’t often have the time to find when you are “here”.