Genovesa Island
Looking at Genovesa is like opening our eyes for the first time in our lives. It is as though before today we were guided by four senses only. We were blind people before; we were all blind to the beauty of contrast and colors. But today we saw!
We discovered red, the true red in the gular pouches of great frigate birds. We were exposed to vermillion in the feet of red-footed boobies, and to “baby” blue in their bills. It was the finding of white, the mysterious white of dry holy trees, and the sighting of light green, in the pads of non-prickly prickly pear cactus. Our eyes engulfed the life that was there to see, the behaviors of animals and the beauty of wild hues. The world of colors was revealed to our new eyes, as if this was the first time.
The other four senses had their indulgence too however. We heard the call of male frigates “in-love” trying to catch the attention of females passing by. Warbler finches sang all day long, with songs of love, telling the planet that they are still breeding. We smelled (for sure we did) the consequences of one million birds nesting on one island, but we also perceived the sea’s scent, breaking on the rocks of the wide caldera where we anchored. And we touched! Not the animals, that wouldn’t be respectful to them, but we laid our hands on the rocks, on the Pahoa-hoe lava flows. They were warm with the equatorial sun, and old, telling us about their thousands of years of age.
It was a day for the senses, but of them all, the sense of sight was the most delighted. Today we saw!
Looking at Genovesa is like opening our eyes for the first time in our lives. It is as though before today we were guided by four senses only. We were blind people before; we were all blind to the beauty of contrast and colors. But today we saw!
We discovered red, the true red in the gular pouches of great frigate birds. We were exposed to vermillion in the feet of red-footed boobies, and to “baby” blue in their bills. It was the finding of white, the mysterious white of dry holy trees, and the sighting of light green, in the pads of non-prickly prickly pear cactus. Our eyes engulfed the life that was there to see, the behaviors of animals and the beauty of wild hues. The world of colors was revealed to our new eyes, as if this was the first time.
The other four senses had their indulgence too however. We heard the call of male frigates “in-love” trying to catch the attention of females passing by. Warbler finches sang all day long, with songs of love, telling the planet that they are still breeding. We smelled (for sure we did) the consequences of one million birds nesting on one island, but we also perceived the sea’s scent, breaking on the rocks of the wide caldera where we anchored. And we touched! Not the animals, that wouldn’t be respectful to them, but we laid our hands on the rocks, on the Pahoa-hoe lava flows. They were warm with the equatorial sun, and old, telling us about their thousands of years of age.
It was a day for the senses, but of them all, the sense of sight was the most delighted. Today we saw!
