The Island pt. 6

The last hour and a half was spent carefully hiking the trail as it began to head back down the slopes. It was tricky, as recent rainstorms had washed out much of it. Occasionally, I would check the time to see how we were doing. If I had gauged the leg of the trail correctly, we would be making it back to the dock about forty-five minutes before the last ferry left for the day. Obviously, there was a bit of extra motivation to get to the dock, as it would not end well for me and my life if we had to stay overnight.

Slowly, we picked our way down the steep grade, attempting to avoid the washed-out areas but at times having no choice. After a precarious period of cautious steps, we eventually reached the terrain where it leveled off. We were again met with tall, wind-whipped grass and greeted by an actual trail. Our pace was able to quicken as we no longer had to navigate rocks and loose stones. There was a feeling as if we were nearing the end, and the relief accompanying those moments. We stopped momentarily, taking a breath and looking back at where we had come.

We began to walk again. As we did, we talked about the different moments that we had experienced, such as seeing the islands off in the distance and the foxes quietly doing their thing among the bushes, standing on the point of the island, observing the pelicans flying under us, lying in the grass next to the edge, listening to water below us and crickets next to us, and simply seeing it together. Despite my ineptness in choosing the easiest route, it was a magical day.

The trail snaked down around the last bit of hill before the homestead greeted us again. Our pace slowed as we made our way up to the dock, passing several people sitting at picnic tables. We felt a sense of achievement in what we had completed.

We sat down on a bench that lined the dock, each of us taking deep breaths. What a day! I opened my backpack and pulled out two oranges and two seltzer waters that we had brought. People randomly filed past us as they ended their time on the island, some carrying backpacks full of overnight gear, while others had daypacks. I wedged my finger under the tab on top of the seltzer can and pulled it up. It opened up with the hissing sound of fizz. I brought it up to my lips and took a sip of the bubbly liquid. Sure, it was warm, but oh, did it taste good and refreshing. I set the refreshing can of bubbles down and began untying my shoes. I slipped them off and then pulled each of my socks off. My toes stretched out, thanking me for allowing them to breathe. We sat there waiting for the ferry, sipping on the cans, eating slices of orange, and a few chips that we had. The saltiness of the chips hit me like something I had been missing and desperately needed. The line of people began to grow, and before long, it reached the length of the dock to where we were.

The ferry arrived shortly after five and began the loading process. We were one of the last people to board the boat. First, we climbed the stairs up to see if there was room. After not finding anything, we made our way back down and continued to search for two seats. Having walked inside, we eventually found two spots at the back left corner of the boat, on the outside. With a long blow of the horn, the engines of the ferry revved up, and the boat pulled out. Sitting in the corner of the craft, the waves began to lull us into a trance. Occasionally, mist from one of the waves would hit me, bringing me back from the reminiscing of what I had seen that day. A chill went through me as the spring ocean wind touched my sweaty body. 'Do you want a hot chocolate?' I asked Deb, looking over at her. 'No, I am fine,' she responded. It did seem like a complete oxymoron to think of hot chocolate after all our hiking. I stood up and went inside, approaching the counter where they were selling food and drinks. After ordering a hot chocolate, I made my way back. Just as I reached where Deb was sitting, I glanced into the water, and something caught my eye, then something else. At that moment, a voice came over the loudspeakers, as the boat slowed down, announcing that a pod of dolphins had surrounded our boat. Though we had found the last two seats, we had the best ones. Deb stood up and leaned against me as I pointed out one of the areas next to the boat where they were swimming. Suddenly, two more dolphins rose out of the water. Glancing behind the craft, I saw them rising from the water in an untimed rhythm. Could the day get any better? I thought to myself. Words escaped me on how I could even describe the moment. In that scene, I stood mesmerized, frozen in place. The chill that I had been acutely aware of was suddenly a distant feeling. The moment was simply another instance of nature completely captivating me. The dolphins glided through the water with a natural ease. Just as fast as the mammals had appeared, they began to disappear. The craft sped up, and we were back on our way.

As the islands disappeared behind us, still scenes from paradoxical worlds flashed through my mind again, like images projected on a blank wall by a Kodak carousel slide projector. I attempted to memorize the colors and images, the feelings and thoughts, the conversations and expressions. I hoped that at some point, I might try to paint a scene on canvas through words.

"That stroke you are about to make on a painting is as much you as the next word you utter or the next breath you take."- Harley Brown