Wednesday, 26 October 2011

A day in Spain...

The endless blue-gold carpet shimmers and glitters as if magic is being performed endlessly before my eyes. An occasional fishing boat dawdles in front of the horizon crossing the liquid mirrorball momentarily before my vision resettles onto its mesmerising, shining, shifting surface. The puppet master sun has now revealed himself and glides elegantly and purposefully in front of his audience. His warmth is soothing to those who draw from his dazzling performance. Below, some dance in the light of his golden glow. As if in tribute, a rainbow of colours move along the shore: blues, reds, oranges and yellows mingle and merge with the beauty of sand, rock and water, whilst others lying on the endless ladder of sun-loungers are simply happy to be transfixed by his Midas touch.

He revels in this orchestration. It is the creation of light and shade that brings the symphony to life.Canoes and sailing boats now get the nod and burst into the movement. A father and son see the point, and dive beneath the rippling foam. Glorious blooms, content to play second fiddle in the early morning, now submerge the senses with brightness, and their scent adds a vital accompaniment. The yellow bird of paradise flowers sing sweetly from every branch.  Golden green palm trees are grass skirted dancers swaying delicately to the sound of the free-style breeze. The engine of a small ferry chugs rhythmically past, as the resonant whooshing of white waves loops endlessly to shore. Their climactic arrival adds a swelling time signature to the piece being refrained over and over again, as the light sea breeze cartwheels in towards the baking shoreline.

Suddenly, and unexpectedly the feeling of being alive strikes. I dive headlong into the careering waves and my breath is extracted rapidly as the cold, galloping spray hits. The endless blue horizon, with the coast of Africa tantalisingly close, blends with the effortless strength of the wind to create an awareness of the pneuma within...

Later, as evening begins its relentless fall in the east, a shimmering spotlight focuses on the sea, amongst the dark blue hue now settling on the restless Mediterranean. The show is almost over, but, as if to build to a virtuoso crescendo, the sun completely dominates the blackening sky, an awesome, transfixing ball of orange hanging in the heavens. Finally, he disappears, stage right, behind darkening hills in an effortless, yet extravagant exit and ripples of appreciation ring out from water and land. In the lilac, orange afterglow, gulls swoop and settle on the shoreline and peace descends to complement the passing of a perfect day.

1 comment:

  1. I like this. Once was there in Malaga so know of what you write. There's just something about Spain. Today I am re-writing over and again something to post today; it will be only my second post here and already there a many ahead of me and my muse escapes me...hope to read another of yours later.


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