She learns
The storm warning was on since yesterday. Rain came in the night. But the morning brought: blue sky. “Was that it?” we wondered. And walked into the sun. An hour after noon, the sky turned again. Another island emerged, one of water rushing down, one of vulcanoes wrapped in mist. One of unreadable skies.
It brought the memory of another day of heavy rain on another island.. and now I went looking for it but didn’t find it. But I found this one, from arriving here once:
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Lanzarote
There is something magic about this place. maybe it's the closeness to the elements that makes the difference, the presence of those fire mountains that are only sleeping, that will wake again one day.
“Isla de fuerta”, the island once was named. we were here years ago, in the time before digital cameras, in the time of just taking a few photos with a pocket camera, but the intensity of its colours remained in my memory anyway. the white houses. the black beaches. the red hills. the green plants that were growing on lava earth. the blue water. and the sand that is sometimes carried by the wind, all the way from the Sahara, white like snowflakes.
When i woke this morning, i looked out of the window, and just had to go to the beach, to walk through the sand barefoot. to pick up a black stone and a white shell. There were doves, standing in the wind, above the waves. As if it was a game, or a task to learn: to idle in this rush of elements.
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