April 23, 2018
A student wrote, “I’ll be celebrating my big birthday on a river cruise to see the tulips in Holland.” I wished her a special celebration. It sounded like this was a
a long, desired destination one perhaps mixed with imagination. It does sound romantic to sail into a location and be lost in the colors of tulips. The anticipation stirred by imagination is sometimes the best part of the trip. An ageless time perhaps meshed with childhood stories when graphics only appeared in one’s head.
How delightful, if one could nestle into a magic carpet, tap a wand and think a location and within in an instant be in that place. Alight and wander unhindered, tourist erased, unencumbered by suitcases or passports, simply meld into the scene with the locals going about their daily business. Language would not be a barrier, for no words need be spoken only instinct driven action would suffice.
Better yet, old friendships would renew as if no time had interfered and one would walk the pavement, absorb the odors, exchange nuances of weather or state of mind.
There is a substitute for a magic carpet and takes only seconds to acquire. It’s fingers on keyboard or wrapped around a pen striking letters on paper. Within seconds one is transported anywhere one desires. For me, it is often a place that has touched me and left clefts in my being. Today, I am transported back to Bermuda, “The Rock”, a place I lived for a short while, long enough to absorb an expat culture and become one with it. Many things happened there that became manna for my opus that included a novel, short stories and poems and even the painting that became the cover of one of my books.
Another expat called it “idyllic” and he like many came for a short stay and remained a quarter century mesmerized by something beyond
and just as much entwined on that collection of islands no longer than twenty-four miles and no wider than one mile plunked in the Atlantic Ocean with aquamarine water lapping at its shores. It was the only place that I’ve lived where I became a friend overnight and at the very least an acquaintance on the street, for newcomers were embraced like jewels from the sea. Affairs abounded like weeds, romance the unwritten rule of the day and long term marriages a rarity.
I am removed from that life for over twenty years with brief voyages back, and yet I sometimes yearn for the magic of fantasy coddled, reality kept at bay and imagination cherished.