Fulfilling a Promise

Some months back, I created a blog post in which I mentioned having a lover. His name is Randy, and I am very much in love with him.

As it turns out, he was not happy with the context in which he was mentioned in that previous post -- among other things. After we discussed the matter and I understood his point of view, I wrote a poem entitled, "What I Forgot to Say." After I shared it with Randy, I made him a promise to include that poem in the next post I did about he and I.

This is that post, and dear, sweet, magical Randy, these words and this poem are for you:

What I Forgot to Say

is how lucky I am
to have you in my life--
how infinitely, unreservedly
blessed.

What I forgot to say
is how deeply connected I feel
as I touch your hand, your face
gaze into your blue-green-hazel
and amazing eyes.

What I forgot to say
is Thank You.
I am so grateful
for your caring heart,
for the trust you've dredged
from forgotten depths, dusted off
and gifted me without condition.

What I forgot to say
is I Love You,
and though it's always there,
between and laced within
each line I write, I need
to say it aloud now, speak
write breathe and feel it,
engrave it on the air,
emboss it on my heart.

What I forgot to say
encompasses, no doubt,
many things.

What I will always remember
is how much you mean to me,
even if it is what I forget
to say.

Last Hours in Costa Rica

I've been hearing howly monkers (as I mistakenly said a few days ago, and have been calling them ever since) for hours, after waking at 4:30 am. Today we leave the Rich Coast, and for me it has been a magical, amazing -- and even a little bit mystical -- journey.

Breakfast will be served on the veranda of the main house of Nosara Bed & Breakfast in about 15 minutes, at 6:30, and the taxi arrives to trundle all of us writers and our luggage on our two-and-a-half-hour off to the Liberia Airport. Apparently in Costa Rica, International travelers must arrive at the airport three hours early, rather than the two hours required in the U.S.

I encountered bats, got up close and personal with howler monkeys, explored sea caves only accessible at zero tide, swam in the warm ocean, saw the famous green flash (see photo) and wrote many pages of poems, a few of prose, two songs and a series of comedy one liners about how to tell when it's way too freaking hot. I also greatly enjoyed the company of the other writers and drew inspiration and delight from their work.

I am sad to leave yet also happy to return home and see my lover, husband and friends. I know I'll also enjoy the MUCH cooler weather Oakland has in store tonight and for the rest of the winter. I'll leave you with a howly monker photo or two, as well as my list of one liners about the heat.

 You know it’s way too freaking hot when:

You break into a sweat parting your hair.

A cold shower has nothing to do with quelling your libido.

Opening your skull to put ice directly on your brain sounds like a fabulous idea.

Your sweat is sweating.

Your sweat glands have formed a union and are threatening to strike if you don’t give them time off.

You start writing strange stories about psychic, talking howler monkeys.

Sitting in one spot for hours then going to bed early sounds like your idea of a perfect Saturday night.

Your eyeballs feel like poached eggs.

 Wherever you travel, may you sink deeply in, find at least joy--if not transformation--have the time of your life and return safely.

Thanks for reading to the end. As always, comments are welcome.

Costa Eureka!

It's nearly 9 pm in Liberia, Costa Rica and I spent most of the day sleeping off what felt like the beginning of a head cold. My body feels tired and a bit achy still, though I can breathe just fine, and I've been eating. The lovely women who work in the kitchen here brought me my lunch on a tray. About an hour ago, two of my wonderful writing classmates brought me dinner. The food is delicious here! For lunch I had a salad and a hand-made corn tortilla with rice, veggies and black beans, plus a tall, cool glass of what I'm guessing was guava juice. Dinner was so generous I haven't finished it yet: four large plantain patties, a bowl of fish ceviche and a cabbage salad, plus a glass of what tastes like beet juice. Oh, and fried plantains (platanos) with honey (miel) for dessert! Delicioso!

I've taken some amazing photos, in large part because it's so gorgeous here that it's probably impossible to take a bad one. The one featured above is the shot I got of one of the howler monkeys. First time I'd seen one, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time AND have my camera! He moved so fast I was only able to get the one photo, yet I'm quite pleased with it.

Beauty abounds here, and yesterday we went on a two-hour plus walk through the Nosara Nature Preserve. I forgot my camera, which ended up being perfect because I wrote a poem about the experience called "Costa Eureka!" One of my favorite things is the variety of colors in every plant and flower. Here's a photo of some gorgeous pink hibiscus:

And here's a snippet from the poem I wrote after the nature walk:

I am not a nature poet, but

I’ll try to describe pale daybreak

warming to fiery gold, waves blue

white blue white lingeringly kissing

black volcanic sand.

I’ll try to paint for you the yellow

cream dun brown green gray

jungle floor, from which grows

the magnificent, murdering Strangler Fig,

snaking around another tree

until it is snugly held,

juiceless, dead.

I’ll do my best to convey the majesty

of the Rain Tree, draped in luxuriant

lace, yards and yards and yards pour

greenly down, and rustle with a rainy sound.

Thanks for reading all the way through. I'll post again soon, because I really want to share the photos I took on the beach yesterday evening, especially a series that captures the famous green flash!

Take care, and may you always know how much you matter.

Where the Monkeys Howl

It's almost 6 am in Liberia, Costa Rica. The Howler Monkeys are making mad music in the trees and the day is just starting to break. The temperature right now is 73, and during the day the forecast promises a high of 93.

Won't have any photos to share until later today. Whether I get to any more posts will depend on the iffy Internet access. I'll post as often as I'm able!

I'm generally not such an earlier riser, but I flew in yesterday on a red eye from San Francisco, with a change of planes in Houston. I feel asleep around 7:30 CR time last night, and woke up around 4 am. Breakfast is served at 7:30 am, and I'm guessing I'll feel hungry for it today.

I'm here with Clive Matson, my writing mentor, and three or four other participants for a writing retreat that promises to be amazing! The Pacific Ocean is just a hop and a skip away. Since CR is very close to the equator, I brought sunscreen and lots of white clothing.

Last night I took a cool shower while everyone else was at an impromptu Superbowl party. Best decision ever! The water felt like heaven on earth after the intense heat of the day, and a bit of peppermint soap added to the delight. I'll take another short shower before going to breakfast, so I can begin the day as fresh as possible.

Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, may you always remember how brightly you shine!