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.

最後の午後、ポリーはまた海岸の高い空へ飛んだ。下には茶畑と、二つの湖のある火口と、プリオロがすむ静かな森があった。上から見ると、島はそのままの姿だった。古い火山の連なりが、ゆっくり冷えて緑になっていく。

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.

漁船が港へ帰っていき、暗くなる海に細い白い線を残していた。海岸の道に明かりが一つずつ灯る。岸のほうから煙のにおいが上がってきた。

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.

一週間ずっとそうだったように、海から霧が流れてきた。霧は火口を、次に茶畑を、そして港を隠し、島をゆっくり見えなくした。ポリーは前にもこれを見ていた。

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.

最後の光が消えるころ、彼女は外の海へ飛び出した。うしろでは、島がまだ地面の下で夕食を煮て、一枚ずつ茶を育て、森の中で小さな灰色の鳥を守っていた。