The Mist Closes Behind Her

On her last afternoon, Polly climbed high above the coast one more time, above the tea terraces, the crater with its two lakes, and the quiet forest where the priolo still calls from deep in the laurel trees. From up there the island looked exactly like what it is: one long chain of old volcanoes, still faintly warm, still slowly cooling into green.

Katika alasiri yake ya mwisho, Polly alipanda juu ya pwani mara moja zaidi, juu ya matuta ya chai, kreta yenye maziwa yake mawili, na msitu tulivu ambapo priolo bado analia ndani kabisa ya miti ya laurel. Kutoka huko juu kisiwa kilionekana hasa kama kilivyo: mnyororo mmoja mrefu wa volkano kongwe, bado zenye joto hafifu, bado zikipoa polepole na kuwa kijani.

Fishing boats were heading back into the harbor below, small white shapes trailing thin wakes across a darkening sea, and lights were coming on one by one along the coast road. The smell of woodsmoke drifted up from somewhere near the shore, mixing with the last of the salt air.

Mashua za wavuvi zilikuwa zikirudi bandarini chini, maumbo madogo meupe yakiacha mikondo myembamba juu ya bahari inayotia giza, na taa zilikuwa zikiwaka moja baada ya nyingine kando ya barabara ya pwani. Harufu ya moshi wa kuni ilipanda kutoka mahali fulani karibu na ufuo, ikichanganyika na mabaki ya hewa yenye chumvi.

A bank of fog rolled in off the ocean the way it had all week, sliding first over the crater, then the tea fields, then the harbor itself, folding the whole island out of sight beneath her. Polly had watched it do this before, patient and unhurried, as if the island preferred to disappear slowly rather than all at once.

Tabaka la ukungu liliingia kutoka baharini kama lilivyofanya wiki nzima, likiteleza kwanza juu ya kreta, kisha mashamba ya chai, kisha bandari yenyewe, likikunja kisiwa kizima na kukiondoa machoni pake. Polly alikuwa amekitazama kikifanya hivi awali, kwa subira na bila haraka, kana kwamba kisiwa kilipendelea kutoweka taratibu badala ya mara moja.

She turned out over open water while the last of the light held on the horizon, leaving behind an island still cooking its dinner underground, still growing its tea one careful leaf at a time, and still, somewhere deep in an old forest, keeping a small grey bird safe.

Aligeuka kuelekea maji ya wazi wakati mabaki ya mwanga yalipokuwa bado yameshikilia upeo wa macho, akiacha nyuma kisiwa ambacho bado kinapika chakula chake cha jioni chini ya ardhi, bado kinaotesha chai yake jani moja baada ya jingine kwa uangalifu, na bado, mahali fulani ndani kabisa ya msitu mkongwe, kinamlinda ndege mdogo wa kijivu.