Somewhere over the rooftops, you can see the blue sky, cloud like white shadows disappear into cotton candy puffs. Somewhere across the rooftops, down into the market, a fruit vendor lays out his colourful fruit, singing along to the calypso music thumping from the minibus. Somewhere, just beyond the rooftops, where the natural habour sits, with houses nestled in the trees, the fishermen prepare to go out to sea. Somewhere across the rooftops, a young boy pulls on the ropes sending the chimes of the church bells echoing through the city. Somewhere beyond the rooftops, school children chatter as they walk the narrow streets. Overlooking the rooftops, I daydream about the beach, the rolling waves, the scent of salt, the jumping fish, the glitter of the sun against the water. Somewhere across the rooftops, paradise waits for every man.
Let the sun set over the city. Let the lights bounce off the window panes and reflect off the still water in the habour. Let the people gather, their hums echoing through the narrow streets and cobble stoned alleys. Let the sound of soft steel drum music serenade man, animal and fish. Its dusk, and the assemble of merriment is a mystery to those who refuse to succumb to enjoying life one moment at a time.
When twilight arrests the day, and the lights in the building come on around the habour, a rainbow of colours bounces off the oceans surface, the likes of which can be seen from outer space.
Pic of the day early morning brightness.
From the outside looking in, floating on water, suspended in clouds.
The daylight is infringing on the secrets of the night, and the innocence of the dark is exploited by the light.