Making Hay While the Sun Shines


God, it’s beautiful here. I live in a near constant state of awe at the magnificence of the jungle and the sea, at the bustle of boats and people and energy that permeates this small village.

This house is closer to the water than any other I’ve lived in here, and the sound of the sea is sometimes deafening. This usually happens at night, it is the music of my dreams, and even when it’s really rough and waves are crashing below me, I feel peaceful in ways I find difficult to define.


While I was busy making plans about how it would be living here, the Universe was laughing at me and cooking up surprises. My intention was to get to work right away after I moved in; doing paid writing work, hiking and swimming, visiting with friends, getting to work on the novel I started years ago that I want to rewrite, blogging more.

I’ve done all those things to some degree, but then Hurricane Robert stormed into my life. He will leave in the spring, as will many other old friends who only stay for part of the year. If I’m going to enjoy all this, I have to do it now. By June or July there will hardly be gringos left until after the rains end in October.

So instead of working as many hours as I’d planned, I’ve been going to dinners and parties, breakfasts and swims, musical events and dances. This week I’ll be trying my hand at croquet practice to see how bad an idea it is to perhaps enter the annual tournament next month. There have been tango lessons promised – Yikes! This is both exciting and terrifying – I’m not very graceful.

Walked upriver to El Manguito this morning to have breakfast on the terrace overlooking the Rio Tuito. (Spaced out the food photographs again!) This flock of birds included two juvenile great blue herons and a very macho young egret who rushed at all the other birds, waving his crest and taunting them.

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On the way home I caught these planters in the village made of old, worn out soccer balls.


All in all, I’m pleased with my progress, even if I’m not working quite as many hours as planned. After 3 weeks I can finally say Yelapa feels like home again. I’ve made peace with the vagueries of the house, and I’m very, very glad I’m here.

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