Lately I’ve been spending the early morning hours walking north along the Ambergris Caye beach trai?.
Well, early mornings? Most days that might be 8 or 9 a.m. but recently after not sleeping at all, I headed up the coast at 5:30 a.m. And yes, in full sunrise. Sun rises pretty early here, although I’ve succeeded in ignoring it most days.
Anyway, about a mile up from my place, in the Tres Cocos neighborhood, there is a log.
And not just any log.
You might not notice it as you walk north, just past the Palapa Bar and before Ak’Bol Yoga Retreat. In this direction, it is just another log in the water. They float in from time to time and eventually run aground in the shallows, forming a nice roosting spot for the aquatic birds.
I know it is there. I’ve seen it for many months.
But it almost never fails that, as I return home, deep in my meditations, I come upon this thing and it gives me a jolt.
“Mother of Spinach! That is one freaking big crocodile!” my mind says, in so many words. “Run, you fool!”
I quickly suppress the impulse to flee — the one all animals count on to survive as a species — and realize it is my old friend the log.
Just a log.
A log with two piercing eyes that probably glow red in the night, and scaly leather-like bark, and a snout. Who ever heard of a log with a snout?
Gets me every time.