Sweet Serenades in the South
The other night Chantal, a South African friend here in Liberia, invited a group out to the beach for a bonfire. I was a little late for it as I ended up talking with another friend, Matthew "the white whale" Holden, after months of incommunicado. I began to think that he was returning to his former life as an international trapeze artist.
Once I reached the beach, it didn't take much to identify the site of the bonfire. The large orange flames licked the evening sky with ferocity. Out came the guitar and a few bottles of grape drink. The evening was memorable as we picked out constellations and galaxies from the sky and sand from our hair. The bamboo coals glowed rhythmically to the strum of Ryan's ballads. There was one moment that continues to capture my imagination. Late in the evening Ryan Schimdt pulled out one of my favourite songs, "Somewhere over the rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. He capo'd on the fifth fret and strummed away as we laid back and watched falling stars burst across the Southern skies. The light from Orien's Belt fell to the beach as the melody swirled in the wash of the waves.
Our eyes were caught by a flight of movement on the beach. As we shone our headlamps a crowd of crabs would prance along the shore like tap dancers attempting to choreograph without speaking. There was beauty in their skittish steps and we celebrated their sideways movements as children on the edge of a parade.
It was in that moment that we saw the beauty of God.
Marcel
Once I reached the beach, it didn't take much to identify the site of the bonfire. The large orange flames licked the evening sky with ferocity. Out came the guitar and a few bottles of grape drink. The evening was memorable as we picked out constellations and galaxies from the sky and sand from our hair. The bamboo coals glowed rhythmically to the strum of Ryan's ballads. There was one moment that continues to capture my imagination. Late in the evening Ryan Schimdt pulled out one of my favourite songs, "Somewhere over the rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. He capo'd on the fifth fret and strummed away as we laid back and watched falling stars burst across the Southern skies. The light from Orien's Belt fell to the beach as the melody swirled in the wash of the waves.
Our eyes were caught by a flight of movement on the beach. As we shone our headlamps a crowd of crabs would prance along the shore like tap dancers attempting to choreograph without speaking. There was beauty in their skittish steps and we celebrated their sideways movements as children on the edge of a parade.
It was in that moment that we saw the beauty of God.
Marcel
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