canaipa island south end
1. It was in 2017 that the rain came down heavy overnight and washed over newly commenced work down at Melomy's. What had clung to the ground now dissolved in broad pools of black water over peat marsh, and sticks laid out in some order now floated loosely. This wide surface now reflected in ink black lines the trees above, reflections that plunged deceptively into the shallows. It was indescribably beautiful and this new expression of the land as a watery place to guided my responses with the ease of familiarity. Everything seemed to make sense, more sense than anything I had made in a long time, as though this new water, with its half submerged grasses and tufts, roots and rhizomes offered a logical path, open and evident, but at every new addition, something wondrous and surprising.
2. The broad, deceptively shallow stretch of water to which the casuarina and mangrove forests open, is, contrary to what we had thought, not tidal at all. Not until we began spending full, consecutive days down there, did we notice that the level never changed. From beyond a mangrove bank that lay at the other side, however, we would catch the occasional sound of motor boats and the wider sounds of water birds.
3. It is futile to resist the urge to construct a dwelling when in a forest for any length of time. It is as natural as walking upright.