MY SECRET CAVE

        In 1977 I helped build a coral rock wall across from the Coconut Grove Playhouse. It's still there and I visited my section last week.

       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     My fifty feet includes a number of sculptural features and one small cave. Inside I created a miniature cemetery. The two-inch headstones had teeny, barely readable epitaphs. I enjoyed taking friends on the secret graveyard visits for decades.

      The cave's entrance was blocked by a fist-size rock. When it was discovered by strangers, my minuscule chamber changed. When grave stones went missing I quickly made new ones.

    My wall and I, 1977 

 Sextons have serious responsibilities.

    After two decades of cave-care I gave up. The dark hole stayed empty for a while then took on new life. People started putting trinkets, poetry, and small bills inside.

      Last week I visited the wall once more. This time my mini-cave was stuffed with money. Had I won the lottery?

   Hardly. There were enough damp dollars to purchase a few lottery tickets -and- ten bucks Bahamian. 

      I assumed my fern-covered orifice had become a voodoo font of good luck. I let the wet bills be. 

You don't  mess with  Mother Nature, secret caves, and the traditions that go with them.

                       ___________________

    

Another stone mason's section, near mine, now covered with incredible banyan roots.