Walked 5 miles from town to the top of this volcano cone, read for a couple hours under the crosses at the top. Insecure Christians i thought. walked down, sun setting and a clearing fire adding to the evening glow, the erosion on this hill beautiful and frighting like the skin under your grandmothers arm.
So many fences on this small island. Little room per person, scarce resources, maybe is shouldn't be surprised, but i am. And disappointed, which seems judgmental, it;s not, but i feel let down.
"Thirty-Founr days? What are you going to do on the small island for 34 days?"
This a book of what I saw as I walked all around this beautiful, remote, enchanting island. The light the sea, the folds and curves of this volcanic land laid bare to the caress of the passing clouds shadows.
I find it important when looking at something to understand what it is I am seeing. The land is bare and exposed because all of the trees were removed. This is exposure, this beauty is another unintended consequence of the actions of the people who also built the statues the island is so famous for. I am just gueesing that after the last tree was gone that there was little more beautiful to these people than the memory of the deep forest.
These people lived alone among themselves for longer than the "Americas have been the America's". As we also are alone and isolated on this small fragile remote planet with no where to go and no one to save us, I feel there are many lessons for us all on this Mystery Isla.
Personally Thirty-Four days was not long enough for me.
Text for the introduction of a book i am working on about my trip to easter Island.
Creative commons Lic. Image derived from file located here. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Easter_Island_map-en.svg
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