On the secret beach

Photo: (c) poet’s own taken at the secret beach, Mauritius, Feb. 2022

When we’re not there
Or if we are
the waves
draw up resolve

To putter out on shore.

Great energy, momentum
Dissolves in frothy white.
The rest draws back
to charge on blue

To roll a course infinite.

—

After two years of serious COVID-anxiety, I flew to Mauritius. In the two weeks there I planned to write, read and exercise. I’d packed leggings and trainers to go running. In 30C heat and 85% humidity my willpower wilted. In the mornings, a cooler and more sensible time to run, I instead pottered around making breakfast porridge and then drinking vanilla tea on the balcony until finding my resolve. At that point I’d focus on what one should do on a beach holiday: go to the beach.

I’d take a secret route (over rocks and a hotel’s wall) to a secret beach. I can’t tell you where it is, or its name, but locals and long-time insiders know of it. It is beautifully scenic, with little shoals of fish that dart in pockets of the shallows. In the garden of one of the houses on the beach they keep chickens and a rooster. The rooster spent much time cock-a-doodle-dooing. For me, this was an unfamiliar accompaniment to waves breaking. I’m more accustomed to seagulls.

After the cyclone, I spied a dead crab spread out over one of the rocks. He did not smell too good, but by the next day all of him was gone. Coming and going seems to be a way of the shoreline.

On the beach and in the day-to-day I did so much staring. Yes, like an activity. I stared at the waves pulling up their energy and dissolving it on the shore; at the seemingly still far horizon; at tossing palm fronds; at a bamboo-framed mirror on my bedroom wall that resembled a sun with rays; at my feet and legs; at the sand; at the beige cushions on the sofa in my rental apartment. Sometimes you have to charge, it seems. Or dissolve.

—

See Instagram (@beadedquillwrites) for more photo’s plus some micro, everyday poems from my recent trip.

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