North Shore Scene

Sweating, we wander the island's narrow shores. The sandy beach of Leinstern turns to stone and mud-and-mangroves forests. Pushing through in the heat of the day, we climb to Waterlemon Bay. Masks, fins and snorkel gear in place, we hold hands and wade backwards into water. The sea is clear, cool and so intensely blue it hurts to look.

This is Leila's first time snorkeling and we squeeze each other as we kick towards Waterlemon Key. We pass purple sea fans that bend with each rush of current. There are parrotfish chomping on brain coral, blue angel fish, stingrays, massive sea urchins, six-foot long tarpon with bulldog-like faces...

The day rolls over us.  Sun sinks into sky and the color of these islands begins to shift, dark green to black, aqua blue to silver. We are tired from the heat, from the hike to old, crumbling Dutch ruins.  

My sister, drawing shapes in sand, says, “I wouldn’t want to get married on St. John.” “Why not?” She runs a towel over her forehead: “Because I wouldn’t want to be sweating like this at my wedding.”

Waves lap against our feet, we swat at sand fleas, at the mosquitoes that swarm at dusk, and lean into each other. We are covered in sand and salt, content, silent, happy.