'A pattering noise from behind us. It's different from a troll's snore.
Slowly we turn. We see no one. There it is again. Step by step, we
move toward the noise. It's coming from the other side of a pile of rocks
and boulders.
'Climbing close to the top of the rock pile, we peek through a space into
a clearing. There, right there, in the center of the clearing, is the Princess.
When we see her, and what she's doing, we know why the Trolls took
her away from the castle.
'The Princess is baking bread! That's right, BREAD! Surprised, aren't
you? Well, that's what she's doing, and there's no doubt about it. What
does that have to do with her being taken by the Trolls? Listen, and I
will tell you.
'Our Princess is famous, far and wide, for the delicious bread she bakes.
When she's at home and getting ready to bake, people come from
throughout the land to sit nearby and enjoy the sight of her at work and
the aroma of rising dough. They especially enjoy the smell that spreads
throughout the palace and across the fields when her bread and rolls are
in the oven. That's not all, there's another reason why people travel to the
palace at the Princess's baking time.
'Always, when the bread and rolls are baked, the Princess gives most of
them away to the people. The people love the Princess because she loves
them, and because she gives them bread and rolls.
'The Trolls must have heard about how well the Princess bakes. They,
too, love bread and rolls, but they do not know how to bake. What's
more, they're too lazy to even try to learn. The only way they can get
bread is to have someone else do the baking for them.
'They also have no teeth and can only eat soft, fresh bread. That's why
they took the Princess. They want her to bake soft bread and rolls for
them each and every day. That's why they have her and want to keep
her.
'And that's why we're here. We've come to this strange and distant land
to rescue our Princess from a tribe of bread-and-rolls-loving Trolls who
are so lazy they would not even bake the bread they need to feed
themselves.
'The Princess doesn't see us. She's working hard, mixing and kneading
dough, shaping loaves and braiding rolls, placing loaves and rolls on
huge trays, and then sliding the trays into an enormous baking oven.
She stops every few minutes to shovel coal into the furnace under the
oven to keep it hot, and doing all sorts of other baking jobs. She hasn't
time to look around.
'To add to our problem, a troll is watching the princess to make certain
that she works every minute and does not try to escape.
'We see the troll guard watching the Princess. He leans against a rock
and his back is toward us. The hair on his shaggy head sticks straight
up. A big club is beside him. He's our problem.
'Carefully and silently, we climb over one boulder after another until
we're above and behind the guard. All-round are sounds of Trolls
snoring, and the ga-a-roaring, phytting, chlupping and cha-leeping are so
loud that the noise we make climbing down to the ground is not noticed,
we hope.
'We're on the ground, sneaking up behind the troll. The Princess sees
us. She looks surprised, but knowing who we are and why we're there,
she acts as if she doesn't know and keeps working. The troll didn't
notice the sudden look of surprise on her face.
'We're only a short distance from the troll. I step on a twig. The twig
breaks with a loud 'snap'. The troll whirls around, sees us, and snatches
up his club. He screeches, spreading the alarm.
'He sounds like a donkey braying. 'Help! Help!' he screams, and it
comes out sounding to us like 'Hee haw! Hee haw!' It really doesn't
make any difference how it sounds, we're in trouble.
'There's not a second to lose. We attack; you from one side, I from the
other. The troll doesn't know which of us will strike at him first. He
turns first one way, then the other. He is confused.
'You dodge in. The troll faces you and lifts his club. I rush up behind
him, and as the club swings back over his shoulder I grab it and pull it
from his hands.
'Not having anything to hit us with, the troll backs away. We don't want
to hurt him, so we let him go.
'You dash to the Princess. She hugs you, then points to a space between
two boulders. 'I know a way,' she whispers. 'Follow me.'
'We squeeze between the boulders and see a narrow, twisty trail. 'This is
the way,' cries the Princess. 'We must follow the narrow, twisty trail. It
will take us past the boulders to the edge of the enchanted, tangled forest.
The Trolls are afraid of the enchanted, tangled forest, and we'll be safe
from them there.'
'We race along the narrow, twisty trail, around a boulder one way, then
around another boulder the other way. We wiggle, wriggle, wind, and
even zigzag. The trail is as twisty as a corkscrew. The Trolls know
where we're heading, and they try to head us off.
'We're almost out of breath. 'Only a little way to go now,' the Princess
gasps. Two more zigs, three zags, a twist and a wriggle and we're at the
edge of the enchanted, tangled forest. We look back. The Trolls have
stopped. They know they must not approach closer to the enchanted
forest.
'The Princess waves good-bye. 'It was wrong for you to take me away
from my mother and father,' she calls across to them. 'I want to go back
to them and to all my friends and neighbors. Now you must learn to
bake bread and rolls for yourselves.'
'The Trolls look very sad as they wave back. We turn and walk into the
enchanted, tangled forest.'
***
The Little Old Man picks up his cane, slowly stands, and smiles at us.
'Our perilous crossing of the enchanted, tangled forest is the next part of
the story,' he says. 'Everyone rise and stretch. Stamp your feet and
swing your arms.' He points to a drinking fountain. 'Have a drink of
water if you wish. Then, let's gather again in a little while and I'll tell
what happened to us along the narrow, twisty trail that cut through the
enchanted, tangled forest.'
The Same Tale: And then...
The first part ended with the Little Old Man telling us all to stand and
stretch. That's what we, at Three Palms, did too. As we ate half our
sandwich, Suzanne went on with the story.
***
The Little Old Man continues.
'Here we are now,' he says as his eyes move from one side of the half-
circle to the other. 'The Princess, you and I have just stepped across the
magic line into the enchanted, tangled forest. We have escaped from the
Trolls. We must find our way back to the cove where our ship is
anchored. From there we will sail across the stormy seas, heading for
home. Our Princess will be back with her mother and father who love
her and miss her very much.
'But first, we must make our way to the other side of this enchanted,
tangled forest.
''The Trolls tell strange tales about this forest,' the Princess whispers.
'She stares about at the thorny, dripping vines.
'The Trolls say there are THINGS in this forest. I hope we can get
through to the other side without seeing them.'
'We cannot delay; we must move on. Up ahead the trail twists among
the trees and disappears under thick vines. We start along the trail. I
lead the way, then the Princess, and you in the rear to guard us from
behind. We force our way through the heavy vines and underbrush.
'After walking for a long time we stop and listen. There are no noises in
the forest. No sounds of birds singing, or insects buzzing, or leaves
rustling, or breezes blowing; nothing but silence. It is the enchantment.
We try to walk fast, but we must be careful.
'The narrow, twisty trail leads us up one slope and down another. The
leaves on the trees are so wide and densely packed that we are in deep
shadow. The sharp thorns on the slimy vines that hang from tree
branches claw at us, but we push them aside.
'Up ahead is an enormous tree with heavy branches stretched across the
trail. It blocks our way. The trunk of the tree, off to the side, is very
thick, and its branches and roots spread in all directions.
'We must get through the tangle of the tree's branches or roots, and find
our way again on the other side. We search for a trail around the tree.
The closely packed branches, roots, and steep rocks on both sides of the
trail are too dense to push through.
'Standing next to a branch across the trail I reach out to climb across the
tangle. The Princess and you are close behind.
'As I touch the branch, it draws back and away from my hand.
'What is this? A tree branch that pulls back and away when it is
touched? Impossible! I reach for it again. It pulls away. The Princess,
you and I stare at it, astonished.
'An enchanted tree,' the Princess says. 'We must talk to it, and trust it to
understand.'
'OK.' I shrug and step back.
'The Princess turns to the tree. 'Tree,' she says softly, 'I am the Princess.'
'A rustling sound comes from the tree, and the sounds form into words.
'I am Omar the Oak,' the rustling words come slowly. 'What are you
doing in the enchanted, tangled forest? It is forbidden to ordinary
humans.'
'We are strangers in this enchanted, tangled forest,' says the Princess.
'My friends, here beside me, have just rescued me from the Trolls who
live in the caves, and now we are trying to get through to our ship in the
cove. My mother and father are waiting for me at home. They love me
and I love them, and we miss each other very much. Please let us pass?'
'The fallen tree is very still; not a branch stirs, not a twig twitches, not a
leaf flutters. Is the tree thinking?
'After a long while, slowly, very slowly, a leaf moves, a twig bends, and a
branch curves toward us. The branch stops near the Princess's hand.
She reaches out and gently touches it.
'More leaves move and soon thousands are fluttering. The branches
untangle and a way opens for us. Branches curve around to form a
ladder and we climb up and over the branches that are too thick to bend.
The branches on the other side bend and open to let us to pass. We
reach the ground near the trail.
'We turn back to Omar the Oak. The tree's leaves flutter, its twigs twitch,
and its branches wave slowly. We wave.
'Thank you, Omar,' says the Princess. 'Thank you for helping us across.
We will never forget your kindness.'
'The rustling of the leaves becomes louder, and form words. 'Good-bye,
good-bye,' says Omar the Oak. 'I wish you well. Be warned. You must
prove that you deserve to leave this enchanted, tangled forest. Be
warned! You must deserve!'
'How must I show that I deserve to leave this enchanted forest?' The
Princess asks Omar the Oak. 'To whom must I prove it? What must I
do to 'deserve'?'
'The rustling gets louder, and we hear again, 'You must deserve to make
your way out of this enchanted, tangled forest. Be ready.' The rustling
is very loud. 'Be ready,' the words repeat and fade away.
''What do you mean, Omar?' the Princess repeats her question, 'what has
'deserve' to do with our leaving the forest?'
'But the tree is silent. The leaves stop rustling, the twigs stop twitching,
and the branches no longer wave. Omar, the enchanted oak, will say no
more.
'We turn away from the friendly, but mysterious tree and move on along
the narrow, twisty trail.
'The trail gets narrower still, and the leaves in the trees pack so close we
hardly see our way. We trip over roots curling out from the squishy
ground, and our clothes are snagged by the sharp thorns of slimy vines
hanging from trees. The deep silence of the enchanted, tangled forest is
all about us.
'Ahead, the trail takes a steep drop into a hollow with huge gray rocks on
each side. The rocks are shiny with wet, green moss. We slip and slide
about as we try to make our way down and across to where the trail
curves up again to drier ground.
'But wait. We cannot make our way through this rocky hollow. The
trail is blocked. Yes, blocked, and I mean really blocked. There, in front
of us, completely across the narrow, twisty trail with its huge wet, slimy
rocks on each side, stretches a huge, glittering, lacy-braided, closely
woven spider's web.
'That isn't all. In the center of the huge web, waiting for us, is the Spider.
Oh, the size of that spider! Enormous! Its legs are long and bent, and
covered with jagged spikes at the ends of which are curved, red pincers.
The spider's eyes, big as dinner plates, glare at us.
''We must fight that spider,' I say, 'or we won't get through.'
''No,' the Princess says. 'This is an enchanted forest, and the creatures
that live in it are also enchanted. Let me try.'
'The Princess walks close to the web. She's so close that the spider can
reach out and grab her with its curved, sharply pointed pincers. If the
spider grabs her, it will not be a pleasant hug at all for our Princess.
'The spider doesn't move. The huge eyes glare at her.
'I am the Princess....' she starts to say.
'I am Cyril the Spider,' the spider interrupts and its voice is like a saw
cutting through wood. 'What are you doing in the enchanted, tangled
forest. Ordinary humans are not allowed here.'
'The Princess speaks; her tone is polite.
'Pointing to you and me, she says, 'these are my friends who came from
far away to rescue me from the Trolls who live in the boulder caves. We
must make our way through this enchanted, tangled forest to our ship in
the cove. From there we will sail across the stormy seas to my home
where my mother and father are waiting for me. They love me and I love
them, and we miss each other. I want very much to go home. Please let
us pass?'
'Cyril the Spider stares at the Princess, then at you and me. Cyril is
thinking.
'Very well,' Cyril says, his buzz softening. 'I will let you pass.'
'The huge spider stretches one of its long legs to the bottom of the web
and draws it up. The web's strands pull apart until there is just enough
room for us to pass in single file. The Princess goes first, you and I
follow. As I pass through the web, it closes behind me.
'The Princess turns back to the spider.
'Thank you, Cyril,' she says. 'You're very kind to let us through your
web. I will never forget your kindness.'
'Good-bye, good-bye.' Cyril's buzz has softened to a hum. 'I wish you
well.'
'Cyril's voice changes to a rasp. 'Be warned,' the Spider says, 'soon you
must prove that you deserve to leave this enchanted, tangled forest. You
must deserve!'
''There it is again,' the Princess says, her voice now exasperated. 'I'm
warned again about deserving to leave this enchanted, tangled forest, and
that I must be ready. What does that mean, Cyril?'
'But Cyril doesn't answer. He is watching the trail again. We're now
behind his web and Cyril will say no more.
'We turn away from Cyril and move on along the twisty trail. It leaves
the narrow space between the high rocks. Once again we are in the deep
shade of closely packed leaves, fighting our way through drippy, thorny
vines and thick underbrush.
'We walk for hours. Ahead, we see a steep hill. The trail zig zags up the
hill, and disappears into a dark tunnel.
'We stop. We must follow the trail through the dark tunnel if we want to
reach the cove where our gallant ship waits.'
The Little Old Man stops. He looks round at the waiting faces.
'Would you like to hear what happens when the Princess and her friends
enter the tunnel?'
'Yes, yes,' we all shout.
'Very well. It's time for another stretch so let's all rise and move about a
bit. When you're ready, take your place and I'll finish the story.'
Still the Same Story: What a Finish!
Suzanne and Roger raced toward where I waited under the date palm.
'How far did you run?' I asked.
'Dunes,' gasped Roger, leaning against the trunk of the banana palm.
'...and back,' added Suzanne, running in place as she spoke.
'Ready for the last part of the story?' Roger's gasping slowed to regular
breathing.
'Whenever you are,' I answered.
Suzanne stopped running in place and flopped down onto the sand next
to her brother.
'Your turn,' Suzanne pointed at Roger as she leaned against the tree. 'I'll
rest and listen.'
***
'OK, everyone,' the Little Old Man calls out. 'Jump up and down a few
more times and then gather round and take your places. The sun is
starting its downward journey into evening. We'll finish in time so you
can hike back to your campsites and have your dinners.
He sits slowly, and places his cane beside him. He looks around.
We're all in our places and quiet, waiting for him to go on with the story.
***
'We left the Princess, you and me in the enchanted, tangled forest.
We've passed through the web of Cyril the Spider and are now back on
the narrow, twisty trail. Up ahead is the steep hill. Near the top of the
hill the narrow, twisty trail disappears into a tunnel.
'We climb the slope to the tunnel's entrance. We look in, but can't see
beyond a few feet. It's really dark in there.
''We have no choice,' the Princess says. 'We must pass through the
tunnel to the other side so that we can get to our ship.'
'We search the ground under the trees for fallen branches. There are
many to choose from. We make clubs and torches. I light the tips of
the torches with my trusty fire-matches.
'Into the tunnel we go. It's wet and cold and damp. Under our feet the
mud is squishy. As we round a bend the light from the tunnel's opening
behind us disappears. It's dark ahead of us and dark behind us. We
step carefully, our torches lighting the way.
'We walk for more than an hour. The end of the tunnel is still not in
sight. Our torches are getting short. We didn't expect the tunnel would
be this long, and we're wondering if we'll ever make it to the other end.
'Up ahead is a dim glow. We walk faster. Maybe it's the end of the
tunnel.
'The light gets brighter. It's coming from around the next bend. We're
especially careful now, and as we come to the bend we lean over to peer
around and beyond.
'A piercing shriek cuts the air behind us.
''We gotcha!' a voice roars.
'We whirl around, staring into the darkness, ready to fight. We see
nothing at first. After a moment, we make out tiny gleams, in pairs and
close together. Eyes-many eyes-staring at us.
''Oh no, you haven't got us,' I shout. The Princess, you and I stand close.
'Come on,' I whisper, 'let's make a run for it.'
'We turn and dash around the bend. We stop in surprise.
'The tunnel ahead of us opens into an enormous cavern. Lighted torches
along the walls cast shadows in all directions. The center of the cavern is
taken up by a huge black box, and next to it, staring at us are-now, be
ready for this. Are you ready? Elves! Elves, I say! Yes, Elves!
''Oh, no,' cries the Princess, 'we escaped from Trolls, and now we're
among the Elves. Not again!'
'We whirl back to the narrow tunnel. We must escape. From the tunnel
rush more Elves. They're the ones who sneaked up on us and shrieked
'We gotcha.' My goodness, they sure gotcha'd us. We're surrounded!
'Standing back to back, we raise our clubs, ready to protect ourselves
against attack. I must say, though, Elves are not at all like Trolls. These
Elves don't look fierce, as Trolls do, nor do they look like they would
really want to fight with us, or with anyone.
'Out of the crowd near the black box steps an old, old Elf. Stooped over,
he leans on a cane. Slowly, he comes closer, peering at the Princess
through tiny eyeglasses perched on the tip of his nose. He points his
cane at her.
'Who are you?' he wheezes.
'I am the Princess,' replies the Princess and points to you and me. 'These
are my friends,' she says, 'who have come to take me back to the King
and the Queen who are my father and mother who love me very much
and whom I love very much. We miss each other and I want to return
home so I can be with them. The narrow, twisty trail to the cove where
our gallant ship is waiting led us into this tunnel. We have no choice but
to follow it. Please let us pass.'
'The ancient Elf has not taken his eyes from the Princess.
'Do you bake?' he wheezes.
'Do I bake?' cries the Princess. 'What do you mean by that? Are you
going to bake me?'
'The Princess, you and I raise our clubs. No one is going to bake our
Princess. No siree, not if we can stop it.
'There is a long silence. The ancient, stooped Elf stares at each of us.
We stare back at him. The crowd of Elves closes around us.
'The old, old Elf smiles.
'I don't mean, do YOU bake, but only do you bake? No, that doesn't
sound right, does it? Can you bake? Can you bake bread and rolls?
There, that's better.'
'Huh,' I say.
'Huh,' you say.
'The Princess looks puzzled. 'What do you mean? Can I bake bread
and rolls? Why do you ask?'
'Everything changes. Instead of being ready to fight for our lives, we're
talking about baking bread and rolls. I mean: baking stuff! Now really!
How about that, all you boys and girls sitting here round and about?
How about that, all you Moms and Dads and Grandparents sitting
alongside your children?
'Well, we are really astonished, and although we're relieved, we're still
very suspicious. We keep our clubs ready.
'The Princess looks at me. I look at her. She looks at you. You look at
her. You and I look at each other.
'The Princess's face breaks into a gentle smile as she says to us, 'I think
these Elves will not hurt us. I'll speak with this little old man and try get
his help.'
'We lower our clubs, but hold on to them, just in case we do need to
defend ourselves.
''Yes, I can bake bread and rolls,' the Princess says, turning back to the
little old man.
'Whispering sounds chase each other among the Elves crowding close.
'She says she can bake bread.'
'Do you think she really can?'
'Well, she says she can.'
'Éand rolls?'
'Yes, and rolls.'
'She can, really?'
'From someone in back, 'I'm willing to believe her. I'll say, yes, she can.'
'The Elves chant, 'She can. She can. Oh, yes, oh, yes, she can. The
Princess can bake bread and rolls. Oh, joy, oh joy! The lovely Princess
can bake bread and rolls. Beautiful bread and rolls. We are saved.'
'They dance. Round and round they go. Holding up colored cloths they
form first a line, and then a circle, then many smaller circles, and circles
inside of circles. They dance and they dance and they laugh and they
sing.
'The ancient Elf leans heavily on his cane. He looks very worn and tired.
'Please,' he says. 'Our baker is very, very old, just as I am, and now he is
also very sick. He is too weak to bake any longer or to tell us how to do
the baking ourselves. So we have neither bread nor rolls. Please bake
some bread and rolls. Then, lovely Princess, teach us how to bake. In
that way you will save us from hunger.'
'The ancient Elf points to the big black oven.
'We have a good oven, but we don't know how to prepare it for baking.
Show us how to heat the oven for baking. When we are no longer
hungry, we will help you. We will have the strength to guide you to the
cove, and to help you to get to your gallant ship. Then you will depart
across the stormy seas to the King and Queen, who are your father and
mother who love you and miss you very much.'
***
The Little Old Man stops talking. He pulls his big red checkered
handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes away a tear.
'Well, boys and girls and mothers and fathers,' he says, 'you can imagine
what happens after that. The Princess shows the Elves how to prepare
the oven, and she has them bring flour and water and yeast and salt. She
shows them how to mix and knead the dough.
'After the dough has risen, the Princess shows the Elves how to roll it out
and shape it into loaves and rolls. Everyone is busy. The Elves place the
loaves and rolls on baking trays and pans. They lift the trays and pans
over their heads and form a line from where they made the dough to the
oven's door.
'The Princess stands beside the oven as the Elves follow her instructions
and slide the trays and pans inside. The oven is enormous, and there is
room for all the trays and pans.
'We sit in a half-circle in front of the oven, waiting. Soon, the cavern fills
with the aroma of baking bread. Everyone, the Princess, all the Elves,
and you and I, breathe in the warm soft fragrance that always comes
from well-prepared bread and rolls baking in an oven.
'When the Princess thinks enough time has passed, she says, 'It is time
to take the trays and pans from the oven.'
'The Princess opens the oven door. A gasp and a shout rise from the
Elves standing on their toes and stretching to see. Before them are
dozens of loaves of bread and hundreds of rolls, all baked to a glorious
golden brown. It is a beautiful sight.
'Using long-handled scoops, the Elves draw the bread and rolls from the
oven and set them aside to cool. While the bread and rolls are cooling,
the Princess tells the Elves again how the dough should be prepared, and
how the oven made ready for baking.
'When the Princess is satisfied that her instructions are understood, she
says,
'Now, as all good people do, let us eat bread together.'
'We all stand silently, looking at the bread. The ancient Elf rises from
where he sits and, leaning on his cane, walks slowly to where the bread is
cooling. He places his hand on a loaf and looks at it for a long time,
speaking very softly.
'He pinches off a piece of bread from the loaf and from that piece
pinches off another. Leaning on his cane, he walks slowly to where the
Princess stands, watching him, and gives to her the pinch of bread.
'We were in need,' he says, 'and you helped us. By helping those in need
you have shown us that you, too, deserve to be helped.'
'You and I nod in understanding. The meaning behind the words of
Omar the Oak and Cyril the Spider are now clear.
'The ancient Elf points to a tunnel opening in the cavern's wall. 'From
here the tunnel has many branches, and many have turns that lead deeper
and deeper into the enchanted, tangled forest. By yourselves, you would
have lost your way. We will guide you through the tunnel to the cove
where your ship waits.'
'The Princess and the ancient Elf silently eat the bread they hold in their
hands.
'The other Elves crowd around and thank us for showing them how to
bake bread and rolls. They wish us well on our journey home.
'We wave good-bye, and with ten stalwart Elves carrying lighted torches
to lead the way, we walk along the tunnel. After many turns into branch
tunnels and an hour of climbing ladders and stairways we are out again
into daylight. We see the cove. A lively offshore breeze is blowing.
'The Elves drag a boat from among nearby reeds. We take seats in the
boat and our escorts row us out to our ship. We climb aboard, and wave
farewell.
'I turn away and shout to my crew, 'Hoist the sails.'
'The sails rise, catch the offshore breeze and fill out. Our gallant ship
turns gently and moves gracefully out of the cove. We are on our way
home.'
***
The Little Old Man slowly stands. He is stooped, and leans on his cane
with both hands. He looks tired and a little sad.
'That is the end of the story,' he says. 'I recall that the voyage across the
sea was stormy, but we did reach the other shore safely. The Princess
was happy to be back with her mother and father, whom she loved and
who loved her and they had indeed missed each other very much.
'For many years afterward the Princess enjoyed baking bread and rolls
for her father and mother and for friends who came to visit. In time, she
married, and baked for her family. Every day, before dinner, she and her
children carried baskets of bread and rolls and other foods from the
castle and gave them to her people. The people all loved the Princess as
much as she loved them.'
***
The Little Old Man slowly straightens and waves his cane at us. We all
stand.
'Good-bye, good-bye,' he says. 'The sun is low in the sky. It is time for
you to return to your campsites. I will see you all again another time,
and we'll all go on another voyage across stormy seas to strange lands
and strange people, and even stranger Things. Good-bye, good-bye. I
wish you well.'
The Little Old Man turns and, leaning heavily on his cane, goes into his
tiny hut and closes the door. The story of the Princess's escape from a
land of enchantment has ended.
***
We hike back to our campsite. It is late evening when we arrive. We
have a quick supper and slip into our sleeping bags.
'This was really a good vacation,' I say to Suzanne. 'Tomorrow morning
we'll sail back to our home at Three Palms. I'm glad we're going home,
because next week we start school.
Suzanne is sound asleep.
***
And so these stories of Suzanne and Roger at Three Palms are finished.
We stand and stretch. A gull swoops in from the sea, lands, and pecks
about among strands of seaweed that had washed on to the shore. It is
late afternoon.
Leaving the beach we head for our homes. At the top of a low rise we
stop to look back. There, against the background of blue ocean and
darkening sky the fronds of our three palms wave gently in a soft and
gentle breeze.