The Flâneur's Turtle

By Cecilia Olvera, RMU Student.

Last year I had the opportunity to go to Puerto Rico. I have always heard great and exciting things about it, but to finally see it on my own was even more exciting. My family of five packed up and headed for our fun-filled week. We had our days occupied with excursions, driving around the island, and seeing the jungle.

On the third day, we visited The Morro. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the enormous brick walls of this huge military structure on the other side of the island. The Morro is an old fort that was designed to guard the entrance to San Juan from any enemies. We took a tour and the guides explained that it was built in 1539 as a tower, and in 1587 it was expanded into a military fort. I was astonished by the history and the battles that took place. I would have never imaged that a fort this size could be in the center of town.

As I walked around the outside, I knew instantly there was an attraction. I felt the walls and with that I could feel the history, the pain, and the worry that these walls held in them. The views from the top of the structure were breathtaking. They overlooked the ocean, where I could see small sail boats floating, and the beautiful city that lay on the other side. As I entered the dungeon, I could smell the dirt from the ground. I could hear the rain outside as it began and smell the scent of the rain on the brick and ground. We spent the whole morning and afternoon exploring the grounds and learning the history. I took in every moment of this maleficent place, not knowing if I would ever return.

After the trip, we returned to our everyday lives here in Justice, Illinois. I was able to have the day off before returning back to work and staring at a computer all day. My sister and I talked outside on our patio swing, feeling the cool breeze and hearing the shuffle of the leaves from the trees, which alerted us rain was coming. I reminisced about The Morro and the tourist that were there visiting, and with that I could image the cold bricks and the smell of the salt in the ocean air. I would get lost in my own mind thinking about how the days were back at that time, and as the summer rain began, the scent of the dew can always draw me back to The Morro.