Freedom

Photographed by Ron Chapple

Words spoke of war

… Born of fire

Increase dedication

Birth of freedom

Frontiers pushed

Cheerful strength

Soft sibilance

Banishing fear

The reassuring will

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Poem written by Brenda L. McCartney

Breakfast Meditation

Image by Corbis

Stirred, wrapped in

Not quite turquoise

Not quiet pine green

Breakfast meditation

Season’s rhythm

A litany of thoughts

Plays upon life’s reason

Weaving stories

In strokes of  sunlight

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Poem by Brenda L. McCartney

Harvest or Thanksgiving

Photographed by J Baylor

I am thinking of fancy frocks; crinoline underneath, sash, flower details, floral accents, ribbons in little girls hair, iron combs, girls in their pre-teen years. My mind is thinking of getting ready for harvest Sunday way back then in November.

To me Harvest Festival is one of those special occasions that everything that we wore to church was new. The members of the church brought out their best fruits and ground provisions (sugarcane, bananas, yams, potatoes, oranges, carrots, papaya, dasheen, yams, cassava), to adorn the church from the door to the altar or every corner of the church. We would anxiously wait to go back to church in the afternoon for concert where we would recite our memorized poems about harvest.I recall the instruments would play and the congregation filled the space with spectacular harmony. All were well dressed, well-fed, young, old and everything in between. There was a mysterious expression of awe as all reflected joy and willingness to do our best and give our best. There was an atmosphere of competition with a flare of merriment. We got some of our best cooked meals on harvest Sunday. The food was then sold on Monday morning to raise funds for the church.

In the Bahamas and in other cultures now food is distributed among the poor and senior citizens. Harvest is still with us and whether we call it Harvest or Thanksgiving we should always cherish the memories of this time, but more importantly give God thanks for all he has given and provided for us, not only in material possessions but also in people and experiences.

Long Time

Have you ever been in awe about something then something comes up to remind you where you came from? I can not believe I partied and feted with millions of people due to the emergence of technology.

On the weekend all Montserratians around the globe and thousands of people from all walks of life tuned into Montserrat via the world wide web (internet) and radio to view and listen to the farewell activities for Soca King of The World – Arrow. I sat by my computers from eight o’clock Friday morning to after one o’clock Saturday morning. Montserrat had a link up live with the radio/television station Antigua Barbuda Broadcasting Services (ABS). Through Radio Montserrat (ZJB) we were able to view the casket, attend the Thanksgiving Service and be entertained by a Concert. ” More than 10 radio stations throughout the Caribbean and in the United States carried the service live.”

I intently tuned in as I viewed and listen to it all from my home in Nassau, Bahamas. I had my laptop on the live video streaming and the desktop on radio Montserrat. As we say back in Montserrat ‘nothing pass me’ (I did not miss a thing). During all of this I spoke to former class mates, family and friends in Europe, North America and the Caribbean. I kindly demanded photographs via Facebook from the media team in Montserrat.

As an aside something can also be said about the beauty of the collaboration between the Antiguan and Montserratian Governments, they spoke on each others behalf, they sang, partied and mourn together on the weekend as it was match made in heaven – the support, the camaraderie, jokes, the humor.

I woke up Saturday morning with endless pains as if I was actually in Montserrat during Christmas festival in December at Sturge Park. Only this time electronically I could have turn to anyone in the world that I was connected with via computer or several telephone calls to express how we were feeling and to get feedback from others as well. Additionally, I did not have to wait on the bus or friends to ‘catch me yard’ (go home) I just got up and slide into my bed in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Then on Sunday on the television show Amazing Race there was a part of  it where the contestants had a detour on their planned path. It reminded me of the time when we had a television antennae secured on our house roofs and we had to go outside and turn the pole in various directions to get a television image. I do remember the days even if it was raining or if a wind passed you had to go and try get back that signal. We used to turn the antennae in various directions ‘ north east south and west’ waiting for someone to shout to us they have picked up a signal. We have come along way in the communication era.

Many of us no doubt has missed being in Montserrat for such an occasion, in spite of our geographic location last Friday we partied and feted as if we were on our own soil giving Arrow a ‘joyous send-off’. We did Arrow proud as we were enamored by his magnetism even in death.

To put it in the words of another great son of Montserrat Sir Howard Fergus “the volume and quality of his [Arrow's] work will constitute an ever living monument with global resonance”

Courtesy -cool4rocknroll

Only he who feels it knows it

Photographed by IPS Co

About a month ago I decided to vacation on a sparsely populated Bahamian Cay. It was impossible to go outside because of the buzzing mosquitoes at most hours of the day. The reason for the mosquitoes is that  the environmental officer went on vacation and was not there to spray the Cay. The vacation property where we stayed had no modern day communication system (telephone, cable,  internet). I did not mind because I had planed to maroon myself on the island with books and spend my free time with visits to the untouched waters (beaches).  However after about a day there I was curious to know what was going on in the world; so at six o’clock in the afternoon everyday I would religiously perch myself at the dining table listening to my AM/FM radio with short wave frequency. This was reminiscent of the days when I use to watch my grandparents listening to news via radio.  My friend Stephanie at this point would say ‘poor soul!’ because it was rare for me to listen to national news. On the Cay I could only pick up one English speaking channel and that was ZNS 1540 Bahamas.  My ‘smatterings’ of comprehension of the Spanish language did not permit to me to engage the several Spanish language radio stations that were available. In spite of being hemmed in by the mosquitoes, and the use of the endless supply of OFF (insect repellent) there was an amazing quiet peace. One author once said “the peace that comes from being out of the confusion of getting ahead isn’t a dead peace but very alive” When I first read this quote I saw the beauty of being at peace but this week challenged that thought.

In the Bahamas headline news this week it was highlighted that copper was stolen from a transmitter site and as a result ZNS 1540 is down and may take about a month to be back on the air. Well, at this point I know that you are gasping. My heart is with the residents of that Cay. I can just imagine the residents visiting the few homes that have satellite services just to ‘keep up.’

In life we are blessed with so much and take for granted the simple things. Today I hope you can take time out and be happy for what you have and be thankful for what you about to receive.

Wilderness

Image Taken from MACO Caribbean Living

Feather touch eyes pare

A preserving indulgence

The searing ache

Methylated Spirits

An iridescent stillness

Wildly beautiful

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Poem by Brenda L. McCartney

Old Stories, Legends and Folk Tales:

Photographed by Zak Kendal

Recently I visited Rum Cay, Bahamas; a place that was extraordinarily comfortable and happy.  Its people and culture transported me to my home Montserrat.  It is remarkable that small communities like Rum Cay, Bahamas and Montserrat, West Indies have so much in common.  Rum Cay had about nine settlements now only one settlement, Port Nelson, remains settled with a population of eighty people most of the original inhabitants have moved to Nassau. Montserrat’s population was displaced because of an active volcano that made two thirds of the island uninhabitable. A Montserratian population once over twelve thousand now has approximately of four thousand with most of the original inhabitants now living in the United Kingdom, the United States and Canada. Also like Montserrat, Rum Cay is very dark and quiet at night; there is a definite stillness outside the populated settlement, only the faint noise of the ocean and a few birds and insects can be heard.

While I was there I learned that Rum Cay has a pond that is called Mermaid Pond. Their legend has it that if a person gets the comb of the mermaid when she surface to plait her hair one will obtain instant wealth.  I was taken a back because Montserrat my island shares a similar legend:

The Montserratian legend varies a bit from the one told in Rum Cay but the premise is the same.  Who can tell how far this legend is spread or where it really first originated?

There are so many old stories, legends, folk tales that I have come across in my reading and travels. Could it be that the legends were started to explain the night-time or silence of dusk? Could it also be that there was a similar legend in Africa and slaves took these stories with them where they settled? Or is it that these legends coincidentally evolved simply to entertain children and give hope and provide humor. If we compared Rum Cay and Montserrat to places like Nassau and United Kingdom both centers of migration we will see that many old legends and folk tales are being and have been lost? Will the next two generations know about our old stories that shaped our culture and made us who we are as these legends?

Do you know of similar stories that your ancestors told? I urge you to share your stories with the world, so that we may learn more about each other and so that those narratives are not forgotten forever.

Comfort Foods

This morning an elderly friend drove up in the church yard with the back of his pick-up truck laden with spice leaves (pimento) for anyone who wishes to have some. I got so excited thinking about what I would do with the spice leaves after church. An older lady asked  what could she use the leaves for, I told her that you can use it in souse, porridge, to cook meat, tea or as a bed for grill meats. Personally, I could not wait to go home to boil some porridge. What was truly priceless was a simple expression from my daughter as her eyes lit up and she said mama I love flour porridge that filled me with a sense of pride.

Tonight thinking about the porridge takes me back to the first time I came to the Bahamas and was home sick and cooked some flour porridge (flour pap) and my landlord at the time (I was in college) associated it with growing up poor.  She was not an unkind woman and was just misinformed; I sighed and gave her a short shrug and concentrated on my porridge. The few second of discomfort were washed away as my flour porridge eased me through the sadness and longing for home that I felt and linked me back to my grandmother’s nurturing. Thinking about it now, if I grew up poor I did not know it at the time.

Sometimes in life because we are from different cultures/backgrounds there is an inability to connect and words said with certain intonations can have such a profound effect. My friends, we have no control over what people say or do we have to deal with it,  perception is everything and only us knows what is important to us. In life we can find something to love about each person.

A Father's Touch

Photographed by Brenda L. McCartney

I remember watching my then two year old serenade her grandfather, as he taught her to curtsy.  She would read and sing to him as if she was beyond her years. He would talk to her as if he was speaking to an older child. They had a connection and her behavior around him was somewhat surreal. There are times she would cry, “I want to be with grandpa,” A few weeks after he passed away unexpectedly. At the repast she sat in the yard, where she spent so many times with him, with her hands under her chin.  While sitting she shook her head and made an open hand gesture and said “Grandpa is gone.”  This father’s day would be my husband’s first father’s day without his father but we know that he is with us in spirit. To paraphrase the poet, David Harkins ‘we can smile because he lives.’  We are full of the love he shared, we will cherish his memory and let him live on and we will open our eyes smile, love and go on. For those who facing this sweet sadness of a deceased father or grandfather cherish their memories because indeed they are living in our memory.

A Father’s issues tangle with life

Patchwork of sweet sadness

Weighted memories – fragile

Eclipse a strong sense of you

Connect with essence

Steadfast replay of moments

Reserve – vacant space

The familiar territory

An ideal crafted, enchants

Pure spirited

Infinitely charming

Rich and self contained

Things noticed in the dialogue of life

Engaging open and compressed

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Poem Written By Brenda L. McCartney

To all fathers Happy Father’s Day! Enrique my love, friend, husband and father of our beautiful daughter, Happy Father’s Day.

Queen of The Night

Photographed by Helen Sweeting

Every week for an hour I sit in an area of where a thin, almost like a dead stick looking tree grows. Occasionally I take a glance at a tall woody tree in the same area. I am told that there is a beautiful flower that only blooms at night on the tree. The name is night-blooming cereus, Queen of the night or Reina de la noche. They bloom just one or two nights a year. The photo provides such beautiful view of this flower that seeing it is a literal high that delights.

The flower can be comparable to the monotony of working hard or possibly the pursuit of academia there is so much going on before the final bloom of a job well done or a graduation day. When we see the results of a long process it gives such a high and provides sustenance. The bloom of our lives may perhaps be a relationship with our family and friends especially when they are no longer with us – we realize the beauty that they created.

High Bloom

On single stem

Such tricky balance

An opening point

The pulse of the night

Blend of the shift

Bursting onto the world

Reserved like Jane Austen’s Bright Star

The bloom mutes

Graced by the truer romantic

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Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney