Sunday. Up early. Coffee pot on and sat on the veranda with Marcel for company.
In the pot today we have Black Coral. A local blend strong, oily and dark. Very automatic and tantalising. We normally have Cayman Gold but this caught my eye this week.
This is our hour, the rest of the house is still fast asleep and my fuzzy buddy and I have the world to ourselves.
This has become a familiar ritual for both of us, sat near each other quietly enjoying one another’s company listening to the cocks crowing and all around and the dawn chorus.
The garden and the bush beyond every shade of green, flowers abound, utterly still apart from the fluttering of Banana Quicks and King Birds. In the distance the cooing of doves and the rapid ‘tack tack tack’ of a woodpecker.
Then a real treat as a squadron of green parrots buzz through the garden squawking and laughing. Show offs!
At this time of day it is cool. Now when I say cool, I am sat here in a old t-shirt and shorts but compared to the heat of the day it’s very refreshing.
It rained in the night so the air smells damp tinged by by the metallic tang of ozone. It makes everything smell fresh. New.
As the sun pushes through the leaves you can feel it’s heat. It promises to be another warm day in paradise. But at this time of year we still get a breeze in the afternoons to take the edge off the heat of the day, to temper the suns relentless heat. It makes sitting out a joy.
Slowly around us the world wakes up, not enough to intrude but little signs of life.
Not far away preparations for the day ahead get underway. It may be Sunday but for many there is work to be done.
By the dock a circle will be gathering at the waters edge to begin cleaning the days catch by hand. Their quiet chatter and laughter as they work almost sing song. The glistening guts of the fish flicked with long practiced easy into the water where huge Caribbean King Fish patrol waiting for their morning feast.
Later today these same fish will be served up Cayman Style in local hotels and restaurants.
A lone stingray circles gobbling scraps.
Just off shore a cruise ship. It’s passengers no doubt waking excitedly to a new destination. But with the tenders still in South Sound readying for a day of shuttling tourists back and forth their noisy intrusion does not yet disturb the peace of the morning.
Industrious dive crews bang and clank preparing their boats for the day ahead.
This is the unseen side of life here the real authentic Caribbean that the noisy tourists miss.
One that Marcel and I enjoy our Sunday secret world.
Under an Endless Sky 