On the first day of our trip to Beautiful Samoa,
we saw this …
just like a postcard…
but of course, better!
On the second day,
we lounged around the hotel pool,
a pool I swam in as a child,
which used to have a real live palm tree on an island in its middle
doesn't any more.
Where'd my tree go?
were served smoothies …
and felt like royalty.
We went to the markets,
where women sat mostly on chairs
(not on woven mats like my memory)
and we didn't buy mangos
(like we used to)
but we did buy bananas and taro and starfruit and avocado and
everyone we spoke to smiled.
On the third day, we went with an old family friend
to the cave pool I loved
and swam in its clean, clear water
to the back of the cave
where the water
still lit up
when you jumped in.
Then we crossed the mountain pass to
the other side
of the island
where the children of our friend's family's village
took us to
and watched the fish
we went to Lefaga
a stunning beach I swam at
often as a child.
And my most favourite rockpool was still there—
amazing how it hadn't moved or disappeared,
even though thirty whole years had passed!
(Because solid rock has a tendency to disappear,
don't you know; it just likes to mess with you that way)
my sister and I
would grip onto the rocks at the narrowest end
of this pool
and, when the waves came tumbling in,
we'd be sent
shrieking and laughing into the pool beyond.
My sister and I did it again,
with my son between us.
Our laughter mingled with the echo of my laughter from long
and it was beautiful.