There I was.
Sitting at the edge of my seat again.
Saturday in a car with my head hanging out the window.
Just like a curious new pup on her way home.
This time, I hung out the back seat of the car window,
headed towards the Jardin Botanico Else Kientzler.
Believe it or not,
we only went something like 10 km,
but it took close to an hour as the roads
are shaped with one s after the next,
swirling through the small towns and tropical plant covered roads.
From the back seat,
I called to Laura and Gustavo,
“Are you used to seeing this beauty of the country you live in, or are you still in awe of it.”
Their answer, “It’s beautiful, but we’re used to it.”
I for one,
am not used to it.
Although my time here has been a little over a month,
I am constantly distracted by my tasks at hand
as I look around to see one incredibly vibrant working of mother nature after the next.
On this morning,
we arrived at the Jardin Botanico Else Kientzler
camera in hand,
anxious to see what lies within these gardens routes
because if you’ve followed my photography,
you know how much I just love botanical gardens.
We spent several hours walking the man made paths of this paradise.
Looking at exotic flowers,
after waterfalls in the middle of path ways,
paintings on the trees resembling that of local creatures,
photo shoots occurring in the garden beds of who knows what vibrant yellow flowers,
took more photos,
scouted out locations for what could one day be a yoga festival,
walked around a maze made of veins and bees pollinating next-door flowers.
the amazement and wonderment deepening
and before I knew it,
we were exiting,
heading back to the car and
on our way back into the city!
This I did not mind,
as I knew when I work Sunday morning,
another adventure awaited.
I sat on the bus in complete awe.
you could imagine,
my head hanging out the window,
but now that of a bus window,
wind blowin’ my hat and hair all around.
Starting in town at the coca-cola station,
heading towards the coast.
Cars, cars, buildings, buildings.
Shortly, open land.
An erected horse,
a sharp turn,
more open fields and land,
trees of all lengths and greens imaginable,
breezes of the wind hitting the bus as it speed down the highway,
birds flying above,
with the sun,
just glistening over their feathers.
it doesn’t seem real,
these environments are those that I dreamt about.
They bring me back to the immediate nostalgia of Mafia Island,
to the trees as green as green can get
and the sky as blue and crisp as imaginable.
is my guide,
I don’t want to feel like a tourist,
because this place is where I’m working,
but I can’t help pull it from my bag.
I want to share.
Photos can only begin to tell the story,
but reality is,
these moments can’t be recreated.
Time comes to arrive at the beach,
fresh juice in hand,
toes squirming around in the hot, hot sand.
We find a place to make our home for the day.
I take a seat
on my Jamaican colored towel.
With my hands on my head,
I look out at the ocean
and although there is a calmness present,
a part just feels missing,
my heart pulses to a different tune these days
as I have a constant yearning to hold the hand
of the man
that as I told you before,
now shares my heart.
and a few others at that
have been spent soaking up the sun,
getting to know new beings I now call my friends.
Each venture to Jaco
brings about a new clarity,
separation from the chaos of the city
and connection to my deeper self.
I spend as much time as possible doing handstands along the coastline,
reminding myself of the strength
that resides deep within this skin,
Jaco is a beach of less beauty,
They all want to know why we would go to that beach
as they say there are so many other beautiful beaches.
I am happy with Jaco.
It’s a two-hour bus ride away,
a treat of an iced vanilla latté,
soaking up rays
and taking time to go within
and reflect on the weeks busyness of lesson planning and teaching
all to realize the lasting effects on my inner beings.
Thanks for letting me share!
Sending so much love.
Until next time.