Whaddyadoallday? Real Life on a Desert Island Rotating Header Image

August, 2020:

Where’s Waldo?

Here we are nearly five months into lockdown, and you might have thought you would hear more from me what with having next to nothing to do but write. However, fiction is not my forte. So without anything happening, there is nothing to write about.

Granted, with our very blessed COVID free status here in Anguilla, I did transition back into saving little dog and cat lives (or more accurately treating their minor ailments). We have been out to eat a few times. We have had a couple of distanced dinner parties on our veranda. And we saw the comet and some meteors. All things that my northern friends would likely be happy to be able to do without worry.  But it has really been pretty quiet down here. And we would very much like to keep it that way in spite of our Government’s recent desire to start opening the island in the midst of what threatens to be a VERY, I mean HISTORICALLY VERY, active peak hurricane season. (Fingers crossed nothing this way comes.)

My current malaise and inertia right now stem mostly from Newton’s Laws of Motion – The first of which states, “A body at rest will remain at rest, and a body in motion will remain in motion unless it is acted upon by an external force.”

That’s me. A body at rest. And now a body at rest for so long that it takes a very significant external force to move me. I may grow roots. It remains to be seen.
That’s why last week I found myself looking forward to witnessing lilies opening. Yup. Like watching paint dry but for one brief dynamic second at the end. This is the time of year that Michael and I actually get into our pool. Usually we are not hot enough to warrant getting wet. But August to October, that area of the veranda that is otherwise an architectural water feature earns its keep. At least once a day in the evening, we get in and hang over the infinity edge and contemplate life.Last week the lilies were blooming just on the other side of the overflow. We could watch the petals start to separate, space developing between them, the little orange anthers starting to peek out at the top, and then “sproing” the flowers would open. Not exactly gripping theatre but something to do nonetheless.Now those lilies are taking a break so it is back to staring at the sea. But last night something new caught my attention.  I saw a flash of bright green in a mass of bright green and magenta in one of the bougainvillea. Very hard to distinguish between the plant and the “other”…

But I was dedicated to the task of capturing an image. At least AFTER I (as an external force) convinced Michael to break his inertia to get out of the pool to go get my glasses and the camera.
It should be noted that I am not the photographer in our partnership. And hanging over the infinity edge on my tiptoes with a still healing torn rotator cuff hooked over the side balancing the camera trying to zoom and focus into all that mass and depth of foliage was no small feat. (Self-congratulatory pats on my back with my good arm, thank you.) But smack dab in the middle of that picture, just behind that one 2/3 circle of a tiny dead branch at about 2 o’clock from that center magenta flower was this:Can you see anything yet?  Ok, wait, Mr. DeMille, he’s ready for his close-up.My new COVID friend, Waldo, the baby iguana.