The phosphorescent essence of bioluminescence follows curve and crescent of the paddle of my boat. I am afloat in a sea of neon green, moving around me, breathing, up and down with the current; into the cave I go. The light of stars and a red full moon is lost, only the green outlines of the cave walls where the water meets sharp rock show the way. Submerged – swimming - fingers enveloped by strange green light. Treading water my entire body is enveloped by a milky green cloud of agitated algae – the sound of water splashing rock echoing through the small enclosure. Paddling deeper into the cave, the tide is rising and the small exit ahead is about to be fully submerged. With a last gulp of air, we swim through the iridescent cave, coming out the other side still engulfed in strange greenness. The full moon overhead casts blue shadows across the lagoon, now fully isolated in physicality, but more connected to the great unknown than ever before.
Small movements continue to create an ineffable glow of green rippling across the surface. A jellyfish floats by and we watch in wonder and amazement. Creatures of this earth are so unique and beautiful. The underlying drone of cicadas grows larger and softer, reacting to the tiny waves in the cavern. Bats emerge from the cave far above and flutter around looking for their eternally nocturnal insect feast. Geckos chirp, announcing their territorial boundaries to anyone who will listen. The cavern breathes in and out. Whoever said that the earth wasn’t itself a living creature was either blind or a fool. The life all around me is so uniquely in balance. We swim back through the indiscernible gap in the wall back to the cave and to our boats. Again, the living green waters illuminate the path and lead us back to the ocean. But first we sit on a rock, drying off in the moonlit breeze, admiring how this earth can be so large and full of wonder, but so small when compared to the vastness of the stars above…
