Ahhhhh a quiet Monday, well quiet Monday morning. I can smell the food cooking, hear the calypso music coming from the old fashion radio in the drawing room. We had just gotten back from the Poppy Day parade, oh the pageantry, police in their white tunics, black pants with the red strip down the sides. They 303 riffles perched on their shoulders. The white helmet with the shiny silver points, their black boots had sparkles like stars in the moonlight. Cadets from the secondary schools, scouts, veterans, all marching through the city to the police band. Now here we were, Me and Mommy Charles in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. I was not old enough to do most of the cooking, so here I was mimicking all I had seen her done over the years and by the scent coming from the pot, it is sure that I learned from the best. Man, you should see all the food as I packed it into containers to take to the beach. Avocados, yams, plantains, green figs, (green bananas) dashin, and to go with that some saltfish souse. Ohhh yes, this meal is fit for a royal family. Now the decision on what to drink, hmmmm, oh I know, how about some homemade Mango juice ohhhh yes, that will hit the spot on the beach.
Ohhhh yes, I did a little dance cause if I did not stop myself I would have drank it all right there. Now its off to the beach for the picnic.
Ahh yes, Saturday, a great day to sit in the shade and watch the small fishing boats go by. A great day to just relax and watch the children playing cricket, splashing clear ocean water as they run. A great day to feel the hot sun that seeps through the leaves of the tree. Watch the fisherman put a fresh coat of bright coloured paint on his boat, his pride and joy. Watch his young son mend the fishing nets, preparing form the day when they can go out again. Watch the Rastamen walk by their black locks glistening in the sun. The lingering scent of ganja, the melody of they lingo. Ahhh yes, it is Saturday afternoon, beach time, do nothing, just watch the world go by.
Ahhh yes, it is a great day to stay home from work. Come, sit with me, out in the sunshine, listen to the waves, smell the salt in the air. Close your eyes, feel the cool trade winds brush against your skin. Smell the aroma of wild flowers as the wind bounce of the hilltop and back out to sea. Listen to the clinging of ice as thirsty tourists raises they glasses of guava juice, or is it pineapple juice. Hear the sound of the lone calypsonian strumming on his guitar somewhere on the beach. Listen to the roof of the stray hut whistle, watch the coconut tress sway, hear the sound of sails flapping in a gust of wind. Feel the coolness of Mango juice run down your throat. Yes, perfect day to brush of work, perfect day to just sit and let the sun soak in.
Ahhhh Sunday Morn, lay back watch the sail boat bobbing on the emerald ocean. Daydream about laying on the vanilla cotton candy clouds. Floating across the cool-aid blue nothingness. The gentle crunch of the golden sand against your back. The scent of the breach grapes in the tree hanging over you. The warm tickle of the early morning sun against your cool skin. Yes man, the feeling of the first day, peaceful. The best way to star
Nothing better than a Sunday morning island sunrise.
Yes man, wake up and look out me window. The ocean is rolling in on the sand , white foam disappear as it rolls back out to sea. A mild warm wind shook the cocoanut tree cause dried cocoanuts to fall hitting the ground with a dull thud. I stepped onto the gold green grass, it is soft and already warm from the early morning sun. Walked down to the water and stood there for a second watching the school of colourful fish swim by.