It's The Way It Happens

[charlescroes]

You can place a huge (and very safe) bet that ‘morning’ happens everywhere in the world - at least once a day and usually right after the dark part of the day ends and the light and sunny part begins. It isn’t the arrival or our mornings that should leave us in awe but, at least for me, the way it happens. And the way it happens depends so much on where it happens

On the North coast of Aruba in the area that is in back of Tierra Del Sol, there is a small beach. Not a swimming beach but, instead, a beaches where you throw stones and think about things. It is a place where talkative people are silent and walk and, where quite people talk to the blue colors in the ocean. To one side there are the dunes, so white in the day that they hurt your eyes. To the other side is a large flat red area that is as dusty on a hot day as it is ugly in the most beautiful way. The large flat red field has probably inspired more photos to be taken and then thrown away than any other place on the island. It has that ‘beautiful/ugly’ quality. I can’t explain it further than that.

On that flat – red – piece of land are holes where owls live. They don’t live in trees but instead disappear into the flat ground. They hunt and stand watch over what goes on. Most often the owls use the single cacti here or there as their observation post. You may also find a dog there sometimes. I don’t call them “stray” since they do not seem to have any interest to be living anywhere but there - can’t blame them actually. Overhead you will see a sea bird now and then. They don’t fly. They hang there as if on an invisible string. They hang and move their tails and heads. Otherwise, they just hang there. Like most of us, you have probably seen them a million times and never took the time to look at them. It is the way we are.

On this one particular day, the following happened:

The sun sent its light over the bend of the horizon to announce its’ pending arrival. It hadn’t shown its face yet but it let us know that it was on the way. Almost in the middle of that red dusty piece of land was a lanky and bony dog. He lifted his nose high into the wind and smelled the day coming. With that, he started to walk in circles - large ones that became smaller until his spine was bent and he was chasing himself. When the circle could get no smaller, he fell to the ground and in a mist of red dust put his head on his paws and closed both eyes. Not a second later, his forehead twisted and an aye brow lifted to be followed by an eyelid. His body was motionless with the exception of the one single eye. It looked here and there and then would close. He snurfed once in a while (“Snurfing” is what dogs do when they let out air and feel content). He snurfed and dust lifted as the snurf air hit the ground. He had settled in for the pending day.

The sun got closer to actually coming around the horizon.

On a cactus – a small owl perched with its feet somehow twisted around the spines of the cactus without causing him pain. He was still and his sleek feathers would ruffle once in a while with the blowing wind. Almost like young ladies skirts in the wind. The owl did not care and just kept his head spinning. Once in a while he would disappear into the air and could be seen carrying a lizard into his hole in the ground. But he always came back and perched and his head would spin again.

The shore line was abuzz with a migration of shells. Millions of tiny shells scrambling on the small waves - all of them trying to crawl up on the beach to become sand and hopefully be a part of the brilliant white dunes. Theirs is an endless struggle. .

Overhead is the sea bird making sure that all is in order. His cast of characters has to be in place for the arrival of the sun. After all, due to his height in the skies, he will see the sun first. He makes sure that the dog is settled in and he keeps an eye on the owl – remembering that it must go into hiding for the day. The sea bird hangs there while his tail balances his motionless body and wings. His head moves about as he observes this scene. It almost seems like a responsibility.

From the areas close to the coral cliffs that make up a large ‘mesa’, comes a man walking. He wears khaki pants that are much to big and rolled up at the bottom and sandals that used to fit his feet wonderfully. His large white shirt is unbuttoned to accommodate his round stomach and you can see that his belt is not put through the loops of the pants but instead just tied on somewhere under his bulging stomach to hold up the pants. Over his shoulder is a large canvas bag that holds a net.

His name is “Cheng” Werleman

Cheng gets to the shore and at just about that instant the sun comes over the horizon. A perfect day has started. The dog, the owl, the struggling shells on the shore, the hanging bird and “Cheng” (the rotund walking man) – all stop and each, in his own way, salutes the sun. It is both the recognition that light has arrived and the pure pride of how well this little shore line is prepared for that light.

It isn’t the arrival or our mornings that should leave us in awe but, at least for me, the way it happens. And the way it happens depends so much on where it happens.

My mornings are on Aruba


charles

[susanna]

Even though I just got back from Aruba 10 days ago, your stories always make me want to go back to see if I can find the areas that you describe. But it's mostly the emotional pictures that you paint that I enjoy. Thank-you again.

[AuntieMame]

Beautiful, Charles.

I think I know the place you mean. We were there once at midday. It was too late for the owls and too hot for the dog. The heat rose in palpable waves over the red rocks and you dared not look at the dunes with bare eyes. It was, at the same time, both harsh and wonderful. Morning would indeed be magical.

[BigPapa]

Thank's Charles....Any thing that I can read....That keeps me close to your Island....is a Good thing. My last trip I went out to the Lighthouse area many times to watch the Sunrise and it was Awsome.