9/27/2019
It means something when a tropical country calls this time of year the “green season”.
A street can become a stream in five minutes. Thunderstorms may start at 5pm and continue until 5am. One of the local folks intown told us that a 14” bucket set out during early morning filled in 3 hours. The rain pummels the roof and the thunder shakes your bed some nights; just as the pace tappers off in the dawn the howler monkeys, crickets and birds celebrate the pause. Though I am a well-practiced insomniac, this takes some getting used to. Rolling such a morning over into the warm humidity of the day – I have been feeling rather like a sloth.
I think the trick will be to get up with the monkeys and birds around 5:30. It is the best time to get exercise in, and figure out what I can remember from the previous lessons of Spanish vocab and verb conjugation.
Our place here has a lovely balcony for yoga and working out the stiffness that sets in from sitting in class of attempting to surf and hiking. As for hiking, one morning this week I managed to find the path to the hidden beach just north of Samara. Passing loose grazing horses, the trail takes you to lovely lookout points of the coast. At one point I thought I was off trail but then realized that the rain felled a tree and created rivulets and gouges of the trail making it look overgrown. The hardest part was putting aside my old nightmare about spiders when bush-whacking and walking through the scrub.
The reward though was sweet – a quiet beach all to myself. During this year of being together it will be nice to have some moments alone
I love the picture of steps that are not continuous.
They seem easy to ascend for a bit but then you need
to step on dirt and twigs, which are just as
beautiful, but slower going and more mindful.
It is a gift to find times, locations, where linear
progress is hindered, because we can experience
more of the present through our senses.