wind hits perfectly along the face
under the canopy of the safari boat.
am i really on the nile?
the nile for moses?
the nile for the israelites?
the sun heats up on the skin exposed.
i’ll choose to rest under the canopy.
out of the water appears one hippo after another.
warthogs skip along the bush path.
two impala look at us as we look back at them.
what’s that ahead?
my feet dangle from the exam table. my head bent down as i wait for the doctor to change the packing in the wound on my back. i stare at the hardwood floor. then the modern curtain and the scale in the corner of the room. the ac is running on a warm day like today.
i’ve just returned from uganda. i got a bug bite that needed to be drained and was put on an antibiotic during the process so infection would not set in. after seven days into the medication – fever, nausea, shakes, chills, and rash took over me. a medical team at the hospital, including a tropical disease doctor, worked around the clock to gather blood work, monitor my heart, check my vital signs, and give me plenty of fluids. i would press a button and a nurse would come to bring a cold cloth or refresh my cup of water. the technician ran a clean ship with her slip covers on everything that touched me. no germs. no way. as a i looked to my right out of the hospital window, i waited for the sun to set or the fog to take over. tests were being run to see if i had malaria, a parasite, dengue fever. with only the beeping sounds of medical machines and the heavy breathing of my roommate, i laid in silence. the tears left my eyes, making a trail to my ears. i was thinking of only one thing. saddam.
if you know me, i can’t get enough of the best little island in the world.
that place you return to again and again because its memories run deep
and now as a mom with children at bedtime, the stories make the memories run wide.
for me, the place is jekyll island, georgia. a small barrier island off the coast of georgia,
now functioning as a state park, but at one time, a winter refuge for the millionaires of the late 1800’s-early 1900’s.
where’s that place for you?
that place to get away. to retreat. to reconnect with family.
i love my urban life…