It is the last day in this corner of paradise (5am) and I don’t feel like sleeping. I can see the first lights outside and I don’t want to miss the opportunity of watching the dawn and walking for the last time on the beach.
I open the door very slowly because I don’t want to disturb possible neighbours. On the next cabana there are already five dogs sleeping, maybe a task force reunited by Sandy. They watch me during the night but they are kind enough not to sleep on my porch. They raise vigilantly and at the same time very still. They recognize me at once and run to the beach, Sandy next to me as usual. Soon we are on the beach where the sun is slowly but steadily rising.
I am decided to conduct one of my experiments. The previous day, while walking on the beach, I discovered that crabs run away from me but not from Sandy. Why? At first I noticed that she looked at the crabs with indifference. I assumed she was remembering times when she could play and run after them, and incited: “Do it! Go on, do it!” She looks always more interested in playing with me, so I guess that in her existence she learned that people deserve more attention than crabs. Yet, sometimes I wonder if she is right. Generalizing is a very dangerous habit!
During this particular morning walk, I confirm: crabs disappear like magic at my passage but don’t look disturbed by Sandy. Could be my weight? I sit still and wait. Even without doing any kind of noise, crabs know that I am there and keep a safe, precise 5m of distance from me. There’s no doubt, it is not the noise or our size that make crabs run from us.
I stand up and walk to a nearby blue lagoon. Sandy leads again. At a certain point, she does “angels” on the sand. I guess it is her morning sand bath. The other four dogs are spread on the beach, eventually doing the same. I sit again in what was once a tree before the floods. A lighthouse is visible in a distant hill.
During my short stay I had “close encounters” with birds, lizards, butterflies and strange insects that come from the river, as someone explained to me. In front of my cabana there is a palm tree doing the same noise as wings of a large group of flying birds when the wind plays in the foliage.
As the sun is up now, I am up for breakfast too. Sandy is slowly walking not far from me, and then I discover something really funny. When she is covering my steps, the crabs don’t run for safety. They stay in the same place. Interesting, isn’t it?
Not far from the beach bar I find a devoted fisherman. He talks with me about shark-infested waters, dangerous currents and a few more things. “Goodbye!” I tell him. “I am leaving soon.”