Doggies, kiddies and the other end....

Here's a little fellow enjoying the day and the ride. I walked the other direction on Esterillos Oeste Beach yesterday, all the way down to Hermosa Nature Reserve, and the low tide terrain was an unusual juxtaposition to that of Bejuco; it was full of coral shelves and little personal pools of water where babies could float in the shallow. THe sand was hard packed enough for bicycles, and I saw two bikers pedalling along the rocks and and sand - probanbly be a great place for mountain biking.

Settlement yesterday consisted of dogs, signatures, handshakes and one interruption when a guy was cutting down a palm tree across the street and I had to move my car. Life is tough.

My neighbors gave me THREE coconuts cut up so thatI can drink the fresh milk, and a two foot long papaya for me to buckle into. I'm slowing down, but I STILL feel like this terrific little wiggler most of the time I have been here....

Everybody should have a lawyer...

or practice law like this! Actually, there were two dogs sprawled on the floor, but only one was there when I photographed;the other was fully sated on tummy rubs and attention. We had our priorities!

There are moments of tranquility even in Esterillo Oeste...

This is early morning when I

walked to see if I could see how the ox mama and babe were faring, but she was ignoring her little offspring; she cleaned it and then walked to far for the little fellow to reach her blissfully bountiful udders. Sigh. Ain't that just the way things work? Just when you learn to suck, the source introduces whimsy? Ah, humanity. Ah, Bartleby, or vice versa.

It was a working day so not much to report but this little fellow was ju8st hanging out in the road of Condo Club - more about that later... And now, I've promised myself more than rice and refried beans for dinner; onto Alamenda!

Two whole sand dollars and four Macaws...

Went Bejuco Beach today and found these glorious sand dollars, pinkie shells and purple and green shell. The beach seems to go on forever with hard packed sand and little inlets with mystical sand rivulets and hieroglyphics. I walked for an hour and could have gone on and on with very few people, few and far between, some surfers but mostly just me and the birds, the water and the sand, the sky, the clouds and the palm trees.

I try to explain about temperature and air, but for people who did not grow up in the enveloping warmth of tropical air, it doesn't settle in the bones and sit there for years, rearing its dissatisfied, gnarly head when it notices the bleeding cracks on your fingers in the cold, dry winter and the stooped posture of pain at the cold and the dismally hooded look on the street, walking around as though it didn't matter how you looked, just as long as you were warm... And so, I write for those of you who understand the succulence of warm air, the sound of birds and the lace of waves.

This afternoon I walked around Esterillo Oeste, a loud mass of American fat ladies, all painted blonde and drinking too much, but at the same time I heard the screeching ofthe cats which I realized finally were the sounds of tucans (sp?) or macaws. I spend a good 30 minutes trying to photograph them with my crappy camera bought in Kathmandu to replace the one with over 500 photos of my trek up to Everest Base Camp. There were four of them swooping and flitting around like angry cats, andwhen I discovered that they mate for life (gulp), I understood why they were shouting at each other so intensely! I never captured them in flight, but the brilliance of the red blue in their tails and bodies was spectacular; my heart went pit-a-pat just watching their flight, and NOT being able to capture their swoops on film made me respect them all the more.

Over and out.

I know I have to entice with a photo.

After an hour and a half run/walk where I watched a baby ox - two days old - learn to suckle from its mother, saw several little spots "Se Vende" RIGHT on the beach, encountered a man getting up from a house of sticks on the beach and noticed fat Tico women firing up their stoves for breakfast, I came back and read on the hammock for an hour or so and now sit at the Low Tide watching this scene as I use the internet and drink some juice so thatI don't feel too guilty.

Today will be back in Bejuco so that I can really experience that gorgeous beach. I walked down here last night, and the stars felt heavy on my head they seemed so close! A man was howling what sounded like a sermon and people sang loudly, loudly in response, and I opened all the windows and door and rocked in the hammock so I could soak it all up, sermon, Spanish disco music and my own Beethoven on the classical radio station. I even heard birds amongst all the carryings on. Didn't mothers used to say things like that? I'm so pleased to be a "woman of a certain age" so that I can decide if I want to say things like that - or not!

How would you like to visit this??

Too much sun yesterday drove me to inspect other beaches and poke my nose into new houses and communities... Despite everybody's warnings, I think you can all surmise

what is going to happen, but I shall wait until I meet with lawyer on Tuesday; meanwhile I'm staying out of the sun and reading, minding my Ps and Qs. One can just take so much beauty and peace...

Who is up for a spring fling in Costa Rica?? And yes, that is a papaya tree in the front yard. NeedI say more?

It all feels rather familiar...

Here is only ONE of my special friends I discovered this morning on the lawn of this little casita. There are several roosters where made their presence known at the appropriate hour, but why the neighbors were STILL putting off fire works last night was beyond me.

This morning I drove about an hour beyond Quepas to the Manuel Alfred (or something to that effect) park, planning only to scope it out for Tuesday but I was seduced by the beach which was wide, practically empty, flat and waves made their long impressions at each roll. Exquisite with rocks, coral formations and waves crashing over each of them. This town is a gay town - unusual in this macho culture- but the place has steep hills with loads of hotels propped on the edges, overlooking these extraordinary vistas of blue, blue sea and hills and clouds that look made from something even more substantive than cotton.

Now I sit at the seemingly American run Low Tide Lounge, right on the beach in Esterillos Oeste, drinking a $1.50 Imperial, the Costa Rican (Tica) beer of choice and blogging on the Internet. Does it GET any better than this?The only thing that is better is an all Schubert or all Mozart program in Philadelphia!!

Here it is - Playa Esterillos Oeste

This hammock hangs beckoningly at the front of the little house, but first I had to goto the beach where I am sure I burned because I just dashed off in my eagerness to hit the sand, the gray, gray sand. It was too hot to settle in too comfortably, and the water is hot, hot, hot

but the waves are thunderous and throbbing, good for the dozens of surfers and the old geezer who lies on his hammock with a big sign over his shop that reads "Surfing Lessons $50 2 hrs." I'm not temped. Yet.

I sat in the shade when the shadows grew long enough to grant me space because I felt an urgency to finish Olive Kitteridge, which is such a glorious book that when I got back to thehouse, I took an outside shower, rolled myself into the hammock and wept through the ending.

I'm speechless...

The rental agency gave me this inconspicuous car for the week, and I'm flying by the cops on a wing and a prayer! This is the sea beyond the car, and I've settled into my wee house about 50 paces from the swelling waves and enormous rip tide.