Natural Bounties

In recent times in particular, Guyanese have become more aware of the various bounties that nature and, by extension, mankind, have provided for us in Guyana from the well-established locations such as Kaieteur and the Rupununi and our various mountain ranges.  With the rising tide of modern drone photography, most of us, living on the coast, are seeing Guyana as never before, and much of it is simply mind boggling. These unique features, or master strokes of nature, have won us many awards, and best-of-ecology ratings, particularly noteworthy in a region known for such abundance.  In Trinidad, for example, the drive through the forest from Blanchisseuse en route to the spectacular north coast, is a memorable experience, akin to the Guyana experience of moving through dense forest, with the sky shut out, en route to the Rupununi via Linden. But there are other natural bounties in the Caribbean, such as a drive in Barbados en route to their serene north coast with the breakers rolling in the distance and ending with the enormous rocks dominating the sprawling empty beach.  Travellers to St. Lucia are frequently extolling the majestic towering Pitons of that island that seem to take over the sky as you approach.  Jamaica, probably the most beautiful of the Caribbean islands, can also captivate with its range of landscape and rivers, and its own famous mountain ranges and serene river-rafting.  Relatively small, the Cayman Islands are known for the imposing Seven Mile Beach on Grand Cayman, the towering cliffs of Cayman Brac, and for the sprawling North Sound sitting on the edge of the capital city George Town.  It’s not often mentioned, but the water all around the three Cayman Islands is clear as crystal, white-sand beaches are everywhere, and much attention has been given to the Grand Cayman’s famous Sting Ray City, where divers interact safely with stingrays in their natural habit of the immense North Sound.  Overall, the Caribbean is unique for the range of its natural landscape, in places such as Grenada and Tobago and Jamaica and Saba, and the variety is there from Guyana all the way north as we travel to North America and beyond.

There is a striking example in the Bahamas chain and in aircraft en route to the USA on a clear day that natural splendour is almost riveting.  To look down on it at 35,000 feet, the Bahamas pattern of sand, seemingly a good 10 miles of it, is an imposing sight, snow white against the light blue and dark blue seas, ending in arc of white fingers of sand contrasted by the adjacent dark blue water beyond. It is an expanse of completely blue and white with not a speck of any other colour.  It comes as a jolt to suddenly realise that what looks like a line of streaking cotton-wool clouds below is actually a veined layer of sand gently deposited by the ocean.  Look for it, on a flight to Miami look, about an hour from touchdown, and also for the view of Nassau on the right and Andros on the left… the sheer majesty of the earth.  Look for it the next time you travel by air from the region to Miami – the shapes and the colours and the combinations are unbelievable.  How many live on Andros?  I haven’t a clue.

But at that altitude I trust they know what wonder they live in. As I think that, it strikes me that most passengers on the plane seem completely oblivious to what we’re passing over.  They have their shades down or are sleeping, or on the iPad or the computer, seemingly unaware of what God has placed below them, of the sheer magnitude and spread and variety of it. The Caribbean region, a place of natural bounties.