I loved the way the waves came crashing on the shore with loud, powerful groans, as their foamy, white spray sent up beautiful lacy patterns against the deepening azure sky.
Mesmerized by the setting sun, as it sent out unbelievable streaks of beauty, I watched atop a rocky cliff as the tide came rolling in.

Island surfers were reveling in their sport with yells of glee as the big ones swelled, promising yet another ecstatic ride to shore in the invigorating salt air.

Now and then, seagulls screeched, drifting with the wind as they dived for a meal, while scampering crabs burrowed deeply in the wet sand to avoid their long, hungry beaks.

A little girl with long, black hair was having fun as she jumped and danced around with a long strand of seaweed draped around her neck, arms and body. "I'm the mermaid of the sea!" she yelled. Stretching out her arms, twisting and turning with the wind as it played havoc with her hair. Tufts of sky-blue-pink clouds seemed to frame a halo around this beautiful creature of the sea, at one with the elements.

Here, on the island paradise, high in the clouds on a verdant cliff with its lush vegetation, I was surrounded by birds whose flashes of brilliantly-colored feathers in flight and happy music seemed to lift me higher into an unknown realm of peace and joy I had never before experienced. No matter if it took me all eternity to piece together the puzzle of how I got here, I was content to remain, captivated in what seemed to be a deep and semi-conscious state, where, with every breath, I could drink in the wonders of this island paradise.

Lost in thought, I was suddenly revived by a tap on my shoulder which spun me around to face a wizened, old woman with long, black hair streaked with gray which she wore in upswept braids, secured by two huge combs of cowrie shells. Her bronzed skin, wrinkled with age, looked like a mass of tiny rivulets where, over time, the purest of waters must have flowed.

With a flick of her deep, sharp, penetrating eyes, they suddenly changed to twinkling pools of mirthful youth and kindness.

"Come!" she motioned. Drawn like a magnet, I followed. Only when I arose, did I notice she was wearing a long, woven tribal gown with earthly-colored motifs. Suspended from her neck, was a huge amulet encircled with feathers and shells. I suspected she was of high, tribal rank.

"Where is she taking me?" I wondered, as we traveled deeper and deeper into the heart of the dense, green jungle. How swift and dignified she moved in her scant sandals, only once glancing back as I stumbled the steep, winding trail behind her.

Halfway up the mountain, the ocean came into view again. It shimmered and sparkled like diamonds from the moonlight, which had emerged from behind a cloud. A heavy mist was rolling in, but enough of the filtered moonlight led us on, up the steep mountain.

Fatigue had begun to set in but I was not afraid. The pull of the giant soul in her aged body seemed to give strength to my tired limbs as I struggled to keep pace. Happily captured by some sort of spell, renewed energy coursed through my veins as we continued to climb. Now, the fullness of the moon had reached it zenith in the starlit sky. A sharp, cold wind had begun to penetrate my bones and each step became more laborious. Finally, we reached the pinnacle of the mountain. There, at the mouth of a cave, we sat to rest on a flat rock. Not a word was spoken as this amazing woman motioned for me to scan the heavens.

A rainbow of colors had encircled the moon in her sea of glittering stars. This, together with the silvery, shimmering sea below, entombed me in an expansive crystal palace of icy, twinkling lights and shooting stars. Enraptured as before, when I sat on the cliff overlooking the ocean, nature had cast her spell and I could have stayed there with the "wise one" forever.

But after a welcome rest, my guide arose, smiled and motioned for me to follow her into the cave. The sides of the rocky cavern had an unearthly glow from fluorescent minerals and painted images of animals and tribal people depicting stories from an ancient time. I stopped and stared in awe at their beauty, wanting to take time to admire the murals but was urged to move on in haste, so I willingly obeyed, following the "wise one" through the deep, dark cavern which seemed to reach down into the very bowels of the earth. Deeper and deeper we descended into the stony cavern with its winding chambers. There was no time for me to even glance at the murals. One false step or slip could send me plummeting down into one of the many deep crevices on either side of the stony path.

After what seemed to be n eternity, we came to a high, arched ceiling, which led into a huge room. The sides of the walls were lit with tall, blazing torches. In the center of the earthen floor on a huge, woven mat, sat a circle of women holding candles and chanting. They were dressed in similar garb as my guide, with long, black braids and shelled necklaces.

As we entered the room, they raised their candles and bowed low. Their leader bowed in return and I followed suit. She motioned for me to enter the center of the circle and sit, then gestured for a young maiden to bring a chalice of sweetened liquid - possibly an elixir of some sort. Relaxed and refreshed, I closed my eyes, listening to the musical chants of the women.

Their chanting grew louder and louder and began to sound like the whirl of a helicopter. Opening my eyes, there, above me, stood a man directing a rescue team, "Bill, over here!" he called, "Bring the stretcher!"

In a flash, it all came back to me. There had been an airplane crash - a forced landing on an island beach. But how did I get so high upon a cliff overlooking the sea and experience the climb up the mountain and down into the deep, dark cavern with my female friend? Apparently, upon impact, I had been thrown clear from the craft and up onto the cliff.

Questioning my rescuers, I was told I was lucky. They had given me up for lost, thinking I had been washed out to sea by the tide. Fortunately, an old island woman came and pointed to the cliff where they found me unconscious - she had led them up the embankment where I lay hidden beneath a clump of overgrowth.

During my lifetime, I have often wondered about this friendly island phantom, which came to me as if in a dream. Was she a witch or an angel - or perhaps both? I have searched for her in my dreams, over and over again. But like the faded images of the murals in the cavern, the "wise one - my angel-witch," remains like a faded memory in my heart.

Copyright © 2003 Mary L. Ports