Guyana Gold
"Wildlife conservationist Aaliyah takes documentary filmmaker Brian deep into Guyana's rainforest, where they discover that the jungle's greatest treasures are found in each other."
The Guyana rainforest swallowed sound like it was hungry. Brian's camera captured what it could, but nothing captured Aaliyah.
She moved through the jungle like she'd grown from it—thick body navigating vines and roots with grace, dark skin gleaming with humidity, knowledge flowing like the rivers around them.
"This way. The harpy eagles nest here."
"How do you know?"
"Because dis is mi home."
They filmed for days. Jaguars. Caimans. Birds of impossible color. At night, by campfire, she told him stories.
"Why documentary?" she asked. "Why dis place?"
"Because places like this won't exist forever. I want people to care."
"Yuh already care." She moved closer. "I can tell."
"How?"
"The way yuh look at the land." She smiled. "And the way yuh try not to look at mi."
"I respect you too much—"
"Respect can include attraction." She took his hand. "Mi attracted too. Since yuh arrived."
The campfire crackled. The jungle breathed around them.
"We're in the middle of nowhere," he said.
"Exactly."
Her tent was small. They made it smaller.
That thick body was wild and tender, demanding and giving. The jungle's sounds covered their sounds, but they were loud nonetheless.
"Yes! Brian! Like dat!"
She moved like the river—unstoppable, life-giving, taking him somewhere he'd never been.
The documentary won awards. Aaliyah's conservation work got funding. They were credited together, in every way.
"Stay in Guyana," she said. "Film here forever."
"What about us?"
"What about us?" She pulled him close. "We are forever too."
Brian's films now come from Guyana exclusively. The world watches through his lens, learning to love what he loves.
And every night, in their jungle home, Aaliyah shows him treasures no camera can capture.
Guyana's gold.
Buried in her arms.