The Last Moai on Easter Island
Easter Island
I was born today. My bones quarried at Rano Raraku near the northeast end of my homeland, Easter Island. My makers were small, with deep tawny skin that gleamed with moisture under the sun as they carved the gentle curves of my body. As I lay among the rock, an unmoving piece of stone that stretched across the land to the creatures that constructed me, I observed the thriving life around me. I was surrounded by trees, some whose unbranched bodies shot into the vibrant sky, their silky, lively leaves dancing in the warm wind that swept over me. Down at my laying level, grew a variety of small, round, leafy, thin, and sweet smelling plants, sprouting from the land like gifts sent from the fertile soil. From the moment at which I was carved from the earth, I was in awe of its beauty, which provided myself and the creatures around me with so much, taking nothing in return. My observations were interrupted as I felt my body lurch forward, and slide onto what I felt to be the dancing trees I had once perceived around me. Hundreds of the small creatures stood around me, noise exchanging between them moving quickly and frequently from their lips, disturbing the peaceful silence. We slowly moved forward, my body still shuddering over the slippery dead trees beneath me. I felt as if I could hear them whimpering. As we proceeded, I was overwhelmed by the exotic life that moved by me. Colors swirling through the air, growing from trees high and low, with branches sturdy and fragile, trunks thick and thin. Smells overwhelmed my buzzing senses; sweet, spicy, musky, sharp, eye watering. I watched the creatures as we passed these aromatic plants; rip brightly colored fruits from their branches—killing them without even a thought. We continued to march forward. The vibrant sky above me began to darken, and our pace slowed as we reached our seemingly final destination. Although I could not see through the darkness, I could still feel and hear. Something long
I was born today. My bones quarried at Rano Raraku near the northeast end of my homeland, Easter Island. My makers were small, with deep tawny skin that gleamed with moisture under the sun as they carved the gentle curves of my body. As I lay among the rock, an unmoving piece of stone that stretched across the land to the creatures that constructed me, I observed the thriving life around me. I was surrounded by trees, some whose unbranched bodies shot into the vibrant sky, their silky, lively leaves dancing in the warm wind that swept over me. Down at my laying level, grew a variety of small, round, leafy, thin, and sweet smelling plants, sprouting from the land like gifts sent from the fertile soil. From the moment at which I was carved from the earth, I was in awe of its beauty, which provided myself and the creatures around me with so much, taking nothing in return. My observations were interrupted as I felt my body lurch forward, and slide onto what I felt to be the dancing trees I had once perceived around me. Hundreds of the small creatures stood around me, noise exchanging between them moving quickly and frequently from their lips, disturbing the peaceful silence. We slowly moved forward, my body still shuddering over the slippery dead trees beneath me. I felt as if I could hear them whimpering. As we proceeded, I was overwhelmed by the exotic life that moved by me. Colors swirling through the air, growing from trees high and low, with branches sturdy and fragile, trunks thick and thin. Smells overwhelmed my buzzing senses; sweet, spicy, musky, sharp, eye watering. I watched the creatures as we passed these aromatic plants; rip brightly colored fruits from their branches—killing them without even a thought. We continued to march forward. The vibrant sky above me began to darken, and our pace slowed as we reached our seemingly final destination. Although I could not see through the darkness, I could still feel and hear. Something long