When we were making our way back from the harbour side, walking through the bush, I became conscious of the fact that we were not walking on solid ground. We were walking on top of layers and layers of fallen leaves and shrubbery that had been compacted over time. With the recent rains, the compost layers were moist and spongy. Each step was like walking on a trampoline as a novice, fearing the springs would give way and send me plunging to the earth below. I became conscious of my weight and in walking gently was able to lighten the load of each step.
As we were emerging from the bush, I could see the sandy ground, and I made my first confident step onto a rock. In stepping, I crossed over a small shrub, out of which jumped a bird. I was so startled I jumped back. I may have said ‘oh shit’, but perhaps the thought didn’t reach my vocal chords. The bird didn’t fly away. It just sat there on the rock, fully exposed. Its eyes were open wide. Its wings were tucked inside. It was not joining the cacophony of sounds we could hear around us, including the various other birds. It was as silent and still as concrete. The oddity of the moment increased with each second the bird just sat there.
I was certain this act of exhibitionism was not to provide me with an opportunity to take glamour shots, even though I did seize the moment. We couldn’t figure out what was the message of the moment, and less we discover in a way that caused us or the bird harm, we decided to end the photo shoot and continue on our way.
We walked a bit further and arrived at wall number two. This wall didn’t reach all the way to the edge of the rocks, so we were able to walk around it without much fanfare. On the other side, just beyond the rocks where we were standing, we could see the beach I had seen from aboard the American Airlines flight: the secret hidden in plane sight. Just beyond that I could see the lighthouse.