Thursday, January 17, 2013
The Sounds of the Caribbean
My husband bought a chicken a few weeks before Christmas with the intention of buying it already prepped. Apparently the guys he bought it from were too drunk the morning of the transaction and not sober enough to hold the fowl much less kill it. So he comes home with a giant white rooster in a feed bag. "Red" - as I affectionately call him, will never be my dinner now that we've met. Yet his 6:00 a.m. wake up call is really starting to irritate both of us. And if it isn't bad enough to have yourself jolted from a good hard sleep by the old cock-a-doodle-doo, Red also wakes up the male sheep that hubby also bought to cook, so Baaaa-Baaaa is now added to the concert. I named this chap Bob. Bob will never be dinner at this house. He has a face and a name now.
A quaint, yet irritating tradition down here is the early morning bakery deliveries. Every morning at precisely 6:30 a.m. the local bakery truck blares his horn throughout the entire village to signal is approach with hot baked breads and cakes. Thanks, but we bought ours last night and don't want to hear your cheery little horns blowing every morning at the crack of dawn.
After we've had our coffee and solved the problems of the world, peace comes. The animals are moved to a nice green pasture and become silent with mouths full of fresh grass. Now the birds awaken. I've never really studied the various species much so I can't tell you what they are, but the morning bird songs are a beautiful symphony. Tiny, sweet little melodies and staccato chirps bring messages to my St Lucian husband. He understands their messages as he was taught by grandmothers and grandfathers who learned from their grandmothers and grandfathers.
Occasionally one bird swoops in very close to the house and sings loudly and very intensely. He tells me it's my "money bird." And oddly enough, every time this bird comes and blasts his announcements to me, I get a new client, a paycheck or some financial boost. The money bird went somewhere for the holidays but came back a few days ago. It sure was nice to have him back.
We are about a mile from the beach but some days I can hear the swell of the sea. It's a soothing sound, one that makes me want to lie down by the window and just watch white puffy clouds drift by. But I can't, the money bird is singing...must get back to work.