“When you rest, you catch your breath and it holds you up, like water wings.”
Resting is good. My husband and I have been resting these last three weeks in Nuevo Vallarta at the Vidanta Resort on Banderas Bay. We have a room with a balcony that faces a wild green space that contains a huge lagoon. The light makes the water green in the mornings and reflects the trees that surround it. The afternoon light turns the water blue green. White egrets, brown pelicans, black cormorants and magnificent frigate birds glide above the lagoon ever vigilant for fish.
Some days, the fish are active - turning their silvery bodies to sparkle on the surface of the water. But mostly the green water is mirror-like with gentle breezes making ripples. I see small red koli (castor bean) trees interspersed in the wild space. Surrounding the lagoon are larger trees where 20 or more huge yellow and orange striped iguanas snooze in the sunlight on the top branches. They look like sleeping dragons sunbathing.
Every dawn and dusk, a cauldron of bats - hundreds and maybe thousands - fill the area above the wild space. Squeaking and flying erratically, these social mammals appear to be having a wonderful time swarming together. They fly in the open space and then over the tall resort and hotel buildings toward the great Pacific Ocean eating bugs and mosquitos.
Early to mid-mornings, I walk on the gray sandy beach at Banderas Bay. The ocean matches the color of the sand. Olive Ridley turtles lay eggs there. The dark gray color of the baby turtles are a perfect match for the sand and sea.
On Christmas Day I saw a Mexican couple with two young girls - maybe 5 and 7 - gathered over a little baby turtle. It was still alive and they were trying to help it get past the waves. The mother, a short Mexican woman, spoke to me in Spanish and showed me her hand. It had blood on it…baby turtle blood. In broken English, she said the pajaros - the birds - had killed two - but this one was alive. My heart lept.
As I continued walking I saw an elder, heavy-set Mexican woman dressed in a white blouse with embroidered flowers on it. She had the arm of a younger woman - perhaps her daughter. They were walking slowly toward the ocean. “Feliz Navidad” I said with some difficulty and nodded. I noticed my eyes filling with tears. Why was it so hard to speak?
I remembered when we lived in Waimea, Joshin and I would ask my parents to join us at the beach every Christmas. They would always come bringing a picnic lunch to share. And the food would taste doubly good at the beach with family! We’d choose a picnic table under the cool shade of a keawe (mesquite) tree. Ma would have a towel spread on the picnic table for our game of rummy.
When I saw that elderly Mexican woman with her daughter, all of a sudden, a deep longing and sadness came up for me. I thought about my mother who has been gone a decade now. I missed her.
Appreciate your families while you have them . Time passes swiftly. May you all step into 2022 with deep love and appreciation for who you are as well as your families - Buddhas all - now and forever.