Nirvanadise

"Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative" Oscar Wild

Ok, so I'm unimaginative, I start conversations about the weather. I'm English its what I do. Maybe 'Barometer Bob' in Marsh Harbor is also English as his website reports a temperature of 72 degrees today. I believe him. I think it may even be warmer. The light, South East, onshore, warm breeze has been a silken caress since I stepped out into the early morning. Even during the night while everyone was breathing softly, I kept padding quietly to all the different windows to spy on the full moon as it stealthily moved through the night sky. Its silvery cascade, glittered on the lagoon and glowed iridescent on the pastel hues of the sea cottages. I'm trapped in a conscious dream. Pinch me I must be in fantasyland or never never land or wonderland, this can't really be my reality can it?

"So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land." Peter Pan

Yes - its all very "Peace, Love and Hopetown", and before you ask, no I haven't been overmedicating on hallucinogenic muscle relaxants. It really feels like a forgotten quadrant of Disney. I'm caretaking my own particular batten board sunshine yellow home with white trim. I can wake up, slide into a bikini, tie on a sarong, grab my Bahamian briefcase (cooler box) and I'm ready for another day running the golf cart rides around paradise with the family.

"A hundred years from now, it will not matter what kind of car I drove, what kind of house I lived in, how much money I had in the bank...but the world may be a better place because I made a difference in the life of a child." Forest Witcraft

Oh but wait, I'm forgetting something, the black cloud of homeschool. Ah ha, I hear you unsympathetically cry! Is that violin music or just me feeling sorry for myself? Well, it could actually be the sound of the viola scratching the neighbors awake, courtesy of Josh. Not sure if it's the instrument or my nagging that sounds the most discordant. Still, I'm hoping we'll manage a full concerto to accompany the slide show on our return home.

Talking of music to my ears, Greg met up with a kindred, stand up paddle surfer. Nothing makes him happier than chatting with a new friend and getting the inside scoop on the best surf spots and the line up. Although, me being able to focus the cursed camera, while he's riding the hero wave of the day, makes him pretty gratified.

Undoubtedly I get it wrong, sitting in the sun, burning my face off while shooting photos still doesn't make the ASA quite right (ASA = Andrea Stupid Andrea). He always makes me look like such a heroine, tuning up the colors of the very shot where my face quite plainly shows that I'm just about to eat it, on a wave I should never have attempted in the first place. At least I'm out there right? The 40 year old surf virgin.

"Surfing is such an amazing concept. You're taking on Nature with a little stick and saying, 'I'm gonna ride you!' And a lot of times Nature says, 'No you're not!' and crashes you to the bottom." Jolene Blalock

Not to worry, we turned our hand to canoes today and rowed the narrow channel over to Lubbers Quarters. So the photos of my slumped in an orange kayak are testament to the name being apt if nothing else. When we got out to explore the ivory shore, the kids insisted on wearing their life jackets in the mere couple of inches of water bathing the sweeping white sand bank. I guess they saw what happened to mother in the waves? Laughter and paddles, sunshine and sparkling sea water made today one of those life time moments you know your gonna pull out of the alzheimer induced fog and savor like a never ending gummy bear.

"How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives. " Anne Dillard

A spot of lunch at 'On Da Beach' (Josh says it with the best rasta twang) was followed by a bit of wave snorkeling. The water was a bit chilly at first and visibility wasn't the best as the ocean had a lot of motion. But the kids had an incredible wave jumping session. As soon as Jasmin authorized the point and shoot waterproof camera into the water, Greg levitated around in the swell, occasionally spitting on the lens with a big grin.

We found a sea biscuit and a sand dollar at Tahiti beach. There were a few shells I had never seen before. Curses does that mean homeschool homework? The shelling is phenomenal in the crystal waters of the still lagoon. There is a distant drone of boats coursing over to Pelican Cay and small sailing craft drift ashore to join the spread of people wandering the shallow waters endlessly searching for treasures.

Riding in the golf cart we ventured the couple of miles to Hope town. It is the most schmaltzy, hokey, cutesy, adorable, twee place I ever had the pleasure to coo over. It was settled in 1785 by British loyalists, refugees of the American Revolution. There is a candycane striped lighthouse with no through traffic. The shops and houses are a jumbled collection of wooden structures painted pastel pinks and blues with white trim.

Its a fairy tale, scattered with locals and a few tourists. Newer residents with easels are trying to paint the essence of it all onto their canvases. Centered around the docks and moorings, the wooden shuttered windows overlook a quaint harbor scene.

As we wandered through on Sunday morning, a white robed clergy man ministered his sermon in the shade of the children's playground. Luckily Jasmin held me back from taking snaps like the psychotic tourist I have become. Riding shotgun in the golf cart, grinning like a loon, I still am not tired of greeting all the other travellers on the road. I feel a strong affiliation with such friendly people.

Yet being here in a land so connected to my mother England, of course I'm going to feel some bonds. Having lived in Africa for so long of course its natural I would feel nostalgic to seeing makeshift repairs and a truck door replaced with wood. At least there is a door. I have noticed there is a lone minivan taxi which is completely doorless. It seems to wind its way backward and forward along the narrow roads past my windows as the sun is setting. I'm hoping he is doubling up as the pizza delivery otherwise I really have to remember to close my curtains when I'm changing for dinner!

Lounging on the back stoop I watched the sun slip below the mangroves, signaling yet another day in paradise as over. The underside of the cotton candy clouds glowed peach. Wispy white tendrils higher in the sky were slower to change into their sunset tones. Time to crack open a Kalik beer. Kids watching a movie, hubby watching the back of his eyelids, a moment of solitude here in Nirvanadise. As the stillness of twilight descends, the silhouette of the palm fronds momentarily pause their gentle swaying. The distant birds wing homeward while the moon takes it lead in the nightly rhythm ahead. Fragments of music are drifting over from the bar with slivers of laughter and shards of conversations.

Time for another sundowner methinks.

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky. " Rabindranath Tagore