8 – Genesis

Beach combing on Bali

The waves roll with a solid regularity. Above, a shining moon glitters in a brilliant sky. A few bubbles break the surface and a shark, caught in the turbulence, ponders the causes briefly.

Some weeks pass. The bubbling continues.

The shark, who had better things to do elsewhere passes this way again and finds, instead of the seamless bounty of the ocean, something new, something unfamiliar, something solid, where before was only water.

Land; an island.

The waves, angered by the obstruction, break on the black shores, biting the rocks in their fury, gnawing relentlessly at the hard stone.

More time passes.

For half the day, the waves crawl up the beach to test their strength with the land, sometimes gaining a foothold, only to be dragged backwards again by mightier forces. On one such day, at one such time, they leave a gift, a large seed – deposited just high enough on the pounded dirt to rest a while, to drink a little rain, to set down some tendrils of roots – a genesis.

Time, it’s all a matter of time.

Where one seed of one plant fell, others grew. With time, other fruits, pods, seeds and spores joined the scene. From one water-logged branch a bedraggled lizard crawls, and in her, her own seeds, in the form of eggs.

Our island of black rock becomes crowned in green – except at the very edge, where the rocks are pounded to sand. Birds, snakes, insects, mammals, all find their home in her majestic forests. The volcano, now nearly 3000m high, edging relentlessly into the tropical sky dominates the horizon, creates it’s own weather, and the beautiful rain gives life.

Yes, all they have is time.

Then. one day, another mammal arrives – themselves clinging to rafts of wood tied together with hand woven twine from some bountiful grass. Quickly, they establish a secure settlement – they live well – the forest and ocean are generous gardens.

Others come – a little forest is cleared to make some more room, maybe plant some crops, or raise some pigs – such a little space, the forest if boundless.

In time others come, in time I come. As the sun sinks to the west, the crimson sky sings of sunsets past; the waves still visit the beach to try their luck, bringing with them a variety of gifts. I walk bear foot in the sand, watching where I step. A broken beer bottle, plastic cups and a shoe. Heavy rains that day flooded out the many streams and they carried their detritus to the sea, the mightiest of dumping grounds.

And as we walk, I count the seeds – pods, nuts, fruits and shells. Somehow I smile. I see the trappings of tourists; beach bars, restaurants, tack and tat. Concrete, pseudo beach chic, neon and lasers. The stars twinkle over the ocean, the giant nut plants its feet in the wet sand, and maybe this one wont make it, but it really is all just a matter of time…

The light from a star catches my eye. Light that has travelled across space, patient and silent – light from a star that is long dead, but left its source before the bubbles disturbed the ancient ancestor of todays sharks.

Yes, there is plenty of time.