Hog Island is one of our favorites. Whenever we take friends or family to see it they seem underwhelmed, but that actually works to our advantage. See, if everyone liked it as much as we do, then we'd never have it all to ourselves. And we rather enjoy having an island all to ourselves.
We love walking (or driving, now that they've flattened the dirt road) into the cave of trees at the beginning of the hike. We love watching the hundreds of creepy, skittish crabs lining the trail duck into their holes the second we get too near. We love the breeze from the watchtower that was recently built at the halfway point. We love standing on the bridge to check out the dozens of sailboats in the marina and watching boat people whiz by in their dinghies. We imagine what it must be like to live the lives of sailors, island hopping all winter long in their tiny floating homes. (That wouldn't be the life for us, but isn't it neat how the world's filled with people who all dream such different, wonderful dreams?) We especially love exploring Hog Island itself, tramping through the fields and keeping our eyes peeled for wild goats while avoiding cacti and giant spiders. We love the quiet.
These pictures were taken two months ago. You will probably be seeing more Hog Island pictures soon, since Jared and I went exploring again this morning before his classes. Our landlord, the most delightful old Grenadian man named Geoffrey, saw us as we were leaving for our hike this morning and said, "I ought to call the university and tell them to kick you out for not studying!" Jared's classes have always been in the morning until this term, so whenever Geoffrey comes over in the morning and Jared's here, he thinks he's skipping class. We explain the new schedule every time, but he always forgets. It's the best.
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