waiting for the sun

I have to skip the day on the road from zagreb to split, hitching across croatia for now and start from last ngiht.
me and my bobbby mcgee playing in my head on repeat for the past few days, until last nights camping. now listening to it in headphone in the cafe by the computer. two nights now we have slept out on the beach. first on a pebbled rock ledge right over the water, overlooking the harbor. last night we walked further away from town, around the peninsula and found another nudist beach sign. as we found out they are bound to be deserted in october - off season here, and the nudists are rarely locals, vis being a conservative christian community. a narrow rocky path wound us around tall blond grasses, flowers, rosemary, pines and low stone walls to a cove overlokking the sea and far mountains, pink and lavender in the coming dusk. the land mer the water with sharp volcanic ledges, going into deep sandy bottom, allowing for a safe descent. on a dry grass stone step we made camp, no tents, just pads and sleeping bags, trashbags pulled over us - the morning sea dew is heavy as rain. a meal of rye bread, sardines, cucumber, nuts, raisins and wine, we quietly watched the dusk in our cove, our ancient pasture hills, the sea and the mountains on the horison. the waves, the crickets and the passing distant motorboat the only sounds. first stars the big dipper. i had nothing better to say than the waves, so i didn't say anything. until the sun went down and the sky multiplied in the thick white milky way from horizon to horizon. total peace, the mumbling and music in my head went completely silent, for the first time in months, sine the fields of vermont. i really had to say nothing, just hear and sit and look. the changing light, the winds, the constant waves and russle of water and grass and rosemary, making a wholesome sense of time. we fell asleep looking at the stars, timeless. i woke up a few times in the night, from chills and troubled dreams,. in the morning i lay curled up, waiting for the sun, watching in graze slowly down the hills towards our still sleeping bodies, until it touched the edge of my sleeping bad i could not move. the sun is so easy to worship to when living from day to night, from cold to warm, from water to draught. the sun brings back warm reality, just when the night visions become too murky. a breakfast of nuts and raisins. i took off all the nights layers and swam in the warm clear water, my body free and open to the sun, with noone else around. we hid our bags in the bushes and headed to town to write, get some coffee, get a little fit of janis and led zepplin while i write this. also to get some sardines, the crow of each banquet, and some local red wine.