The landscape was uniform at one point. I imagined the green carpet of tree crowns intermingled to prevent the sun rays from touching the earth around their moist roots. I could hear them whisper through the wind, “not today…” Then the winds howled and the ground shook. Some of their branches broke and crushed their young, their hearts wailed in agony as they peered out into the distance at the upraised crooked wall of rocks that appeared out of nowhere. The uniformity was broken, children were killed, families forever separated in the name of change.
From the ashes another will rise. A dead tree lies across an abandoned trail, signifying the end of a once trafficked route. Footsteps no longer trudged across the compacted exposed soil nor branches clipped by wornout machetes. In this state of fallowing the forest dwellers slowly slip out of the shadows and take up positions along the once trimmed corridor. And at the very beginning of this repurposed trail, stand the guardians of new community.
Kneeling on the ground, looking up at this tower, which is part of a 19th Century Anglican Church in Guyana, a former Colony of Great Britain, France and Holland. Located in Leguan, an island in the mighty Essequibo River, this marvel is not seen by many. Yet it lies there in a state of slumber, waiting to be awaken by the sound of footsteps traversing its cobwebbed floor.
Welcome to Leguan, the Island of peace and serenity. The people are easygoing and polite, the food is tasty and affordable, and the time moves slowly.
Hmmm…curves you say? How many ?
I stand alone, dare to thrive where others fell. I do not boast nor brag about this feat because alas, I am alone. The clouds gathered above in angry consort, enraged by my defiance and refusal to bend. A healthy root system and an unyielding trunk, I shall not be moved. Yea they come against me with chains of destruction, I shall stand with my leaves ready, ready to launch counter attacks defend by home. Yes it is I, the one who stands alone.
St. Peter’s Anglican Church was originally constructed in 1827, however, this current structure was established in 1855. Located on the relatively serene island of Leguan, this church draws an air of mystique and uneasiness. Graves offer their salutations as one enters the periphery of the church estate and a dead calm permeates the atmosphere…no pun intended.
Perhaps I was tired, perhaps it was the hour of the day…maybe it was the trees or the homes that hid among them. Something felt magical as I gazed into this grove, thinking of hidden kingdoms and micro wars. The guardian trees stood ready to fight against the forces of the dark night.
Claiming a spot for themselves, these shrubs interrupt the gentle rolling hills of grass. Unique in form, they decorate the landscape, appearing like blotches on a smooth surface. Thrown out by the patches of forests and unwanted by the grasses, they live a life of solitude, longing for a place to belong.