I mentioned in the post, Anecdotes #1 that Zipolite is one of those things that get away. I had a great time there, but I probably wouldn’t remember much of it, if I didn’t write it down.
I managed to write down anecdotes and impressions along the way. I think that they reflect the mindset of the place, the magic and the relaxation. I managed to reboot myself while there.
Here’s some more of that:
Mornings, come easy here on the beach…at sunrise.
“Wow, the sky is the color of my orange juice this morning. Narranghada!”
A bank of clouds impersonates hills down the beach to the east. It seems only moments that that hillside grows tall and more cloud-like, a barrier, someplace else, a front.
The small open top fishing boats are out on their way, skimming the waves with all that the power motors have to give.
I turn southwest toward Roca Blanca Island; the rich blue waters contrast dramatically with the creamy white dome. Closer, before me, the first flight of pelicans glides through the air close to the water.
A Gentleman Gathers Breakfast.
On cue, the birds begin to call out. They screech like the sound of a hollow tube. I have a cheap metal flute in my luggage to play with. I think that I can imitate them with it. Could I attract a fool in love? The birds hang around like pigeons. They appear to be a cross between a crow and a road runner. They are shiny black with yellow eyes. Their shape is slim, sleek. They carry themselves with that same shifting wobbling roadrunner strut and chicken tracks. I call them beach chickens.
What’s with all of the black animals?:
Curiously, every piece of fauna …