The Mist Closes Behind Her

On her last afternoon, Polly flew high above the coast again. Below her lay the tea fields, the crater with its two lakes, and the quiet forest where the priolo still lives. From up there, the island looked like what it is: a chain of old volcanoes, still slowly cooling into green.

Pada sore terakhirnya, Polly terbang tinggi lagi di atas pesisir. Di bawahnya terhampar ladang teh, kawah dengan dua danaunya, dan hutan sunyi tempat priolo masih hidup. Dari atas sana, pulau itu tampak seperti apa adanya: rangkaian gunung api tua yang perlahan mendingin menjadi hijau.

Fishing boats were heading back to the harbor, leaving thin white lines on the darkening sea. Lights came on one by one along the coast road. The smell of smoke drifted up from the shore.

Perahu nelayan kembali ke pelabuhan, meninggalkan garis putih tipis di laut yang mulai gelap. Lampu menyala satu per satu di sepanjang jalan pesisir. Aroma asap naik dari arah pantai.

Fog rolled in from the ocean, just as it had all week. It covered the crater, then the tea fields, then the harbor, hiding the island slowly from view. Polly had seen it do this before.

Kabut datang dari samudra, seperti sepanjang minggu itu. Kabut menutupi kawah, lalu ladang teh, lalu pelabuhan, menyembunyikan pulau itu perlahan dari pandangan. Polly pernah melihatnya melakukan hal ini.

She flew out over open water as the last light faded. Behind her, the island kept cooking its dinner underground, growing its tea leaf by leaf, and keeping a small grey bird safe in its forest.

Ia terbang ke laut lepas saat cahaya terakhir memudar. Di belakangnya, pulau itu terus memasak makan malamnya di bawah tanah, menumbuhkan tehnya selembar demi selembar, dan menjaga seekor burung kelabu kecil tetap aman di hutannya.