Paddling In Paradise

Azi paddling us to the Blue Hole off Ratua in Vanuatu, 2012

Paddling in paradise four years ago, weaving through an ancient forest that was curiously quiet but for the gentle sound of oars behind me. The water was centuries deep and so clear that you could see the rippled sand below. Magnificent trees and curling vines were tangled together forming a green canopy that shaded us from tropical sun. It was one of the shortest, most magical journeys I have been lucky enough to take. It led to a bright blue hole where my friend and I swam in crystal water as hundreds of swallows swooped and whirled around us, diving to drink beside us.

Reminded of it today it strikes me how many of my most amazing experiences have involved feathered friends. Big eagles circling in the sky above me, a murmuration of starlings dancing in the sky beside me, wrens knocking on my window, swallows nesting under the eaves, crows cawing me forward. Perhaps it is they that lend me their wings.

Words c. Kerrie Basha 2016