By Baker Street
There was no harbor here, only a natural bay. The ship lay anchored deep in the water, beyond the breaking waves. It bobbed calm and serenely in the tranquil water, with its sails down, and the masts creaking in the light breeze. It was a warm day under the tropical sun. The smell and taste of salt was thick on the sea-breeze.
She had come out here to load and carry a cargo of spices back west. Spice; gold from the east, for whosoever could transport it back west. Spice; the essence of life, and wealth. She was only briefly anchored here, before they would venture further east to a large city with a harbor, where she would be laden with her cargo. Now she drifted innocently on the water…waiting. The wind blew soft, and then slightly harder, and then gently again…
On a hill-top not far away stood a very large stone Buddha, looking over the eastern horizon on an eternal passive vigil. It stood among a clearing in the jungle, and the grey stone was covered in places with different shades of moss. It stood, never blinking and eye, always looking east. A stone god amidst a roaring sea, and under the burning sky. The wind buffeted the cold stone face of the Buddha gently. The taller trees bent slightly this way, and then that, in the breeze.
The island was alive with the sound of bird-life in the jungle. A parrot screeched loud and annoyingly for a while, and then mysteriously fell silent. The sounds of bird calls from the trees never ceased, but flowed on uninterrupted. The sky was clear and cloudless, and the ship lay basking in the hot sun. The wind swayed it gently on the sea, where it lay anchored.
The sunlight glistened softly off the rolling waves, and the ocean murmured and hummed in a soft eternal hush.