medittion

In praise of sitting still in Belize

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Frigate birds gather as Jose the fisherman cleans his catch on our dock. You can tell how Jose's day went by the number of birds he attracts.
Frigate birds gather as Jose the fisherman cleans his catch on our dock. You can tell how Jose’s day went by the number of birds he attracts.

I sit in the red Adirondack chair, the only one with a cushion, albeit a thin cushion,  and marvel at the well-practiced thievery of the frigate birds.

I used to think that they were like a natural GPS tracking system for schools of sardines. Where ever five or more were gathered, soaring so gracefully on the breeze, dipping, swooping, gliding sideways — surely there were fish below.

But while the frigates are doing their narcissistic act of effortlessly artful skywriting up above, it seems that kamikaze pelicans, low-cruising cormorants and the brisk business-like white terns are doing all the heavy lifting. Read the rest of this entry »