Saturday Afternoon

What a mighty force of nature? The power of the wind. There is something about the sea breeze. Cathartic for some; a mystery for others. Resting on the seagrape trees; trees as old as the St. Catherine Hills. Listening to the chirping noise of the black birds; duppy birds perched high, thus providing much entertainment for those so inclined while the blazing lyrics from the latest dancehall competing for attention from the afternoon crowd. The white sand caressing the toes of the gleeful beachgoers amidst the broiling sound of the waves brings up the troublesome seaweed. Beachgoers fearful to dive in. The seaweed speaks to strength in unity. Watching! Walking around with their smartphones taking phoptographs. Waiting! Finally, a clear area to quickly take a dip. Sargassum! Children busy making sandcastles under the stern and watchful eyes of their parents. A visitor to the island deeply riveted in her novel with back turned towards the sea. The engaging lifeguard occasionally walks around. The security guard in his brightly coloured vest and black hat shielding his face from the sun’s fury. One last dip. It is almost time to leave this perfect Saturday Afternoon. The surge of the waves gives one last performance as the shoreline is once again covered in seaweed. A return is a must. Perhaps Sargassum will be on vacation then. Saturday Afternoon by Wayne Campbell ©

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