I’m flat on my back in water that is just deep enough to cover my ears and muffle the sounds of friends who are happily chatting just a few feet way.
The water is a gloriously comfortable temperature. The sky above is a radiant blue with just enough fluffy bits of cloud to add interest but my eyes are closed, letting the gentle heat of the sun sink deep into the frontal lobe and warm it up like bacon.
Two thoughts are floating through my brain:
1. This is a Monday afternoon. Incredible.
2. If I stay like this long enough, can I grow gills through my ears and never have to get up? Read the rest of this entry »
In California, we used to say the seasons were Drought, Wildfire, Rainy/Greenery, Earthquake and Glorious Sunshine. San Diego had a whole season called June Gloom, in which the fog would roll in and stay until about 11 a.m., when the morning sun would finally burn it off and the breeze would beat it back to sea.
Here on Ambergris Caye there are similarly quirky seasons. There is High Season, during which people comment on how many other people there are on the island. And Low Season, during which people miss the fast-spending crowds of High Season, the people who by their presence and injection of cash pry open the seasonal restaurants and shops, bringing them out of their relatively brief commercial hibernation.
There is also Hurricane Season, Mosquito Season, Lobster Season and Conch Season. And the ever-popular Season of Paradise, during which the weather is beautiful, the mosquitoes non-existent, the crowds are manageable, the restaurants and bars all open and prices are still in the Low Season bracket. Read the rest of this entry »