Semana Santa Saturday ~ Tranquillo in Solitude

The post title might seem like an oxymoron to all the people madly working around the island, serving the many and the impatient (for you who have got your island head on, you are excused). I went down to Flamenco early and it was just before the inpouring, still relatively calm and pretty much what we would have considered busy once upon a time. But there was still the peacefulness of its beauty and the wildness of  gusting winds, a combination I happen to like a lot.

I picked up too many plastic cups on the beach near the trail. Especially with trash cans ready and waiting close by.

This guy was exercising. A few push ups, a dash into the sea, more push ups. Thanks, guy, I feel exercised.

As I was leaving there was a decision to make. Go overlook the Dakity invasion? Pela? Punta Soldado? And then, driving along, the realization hit me that there are places where there was still Culebra tranquillo to be found. That is what I really wanted and that is what I found.

The sight of Buddy John's beautiful tri always calms me down. 

Not a creature was stirring, not even a fish.

In the quiet places, these birds were making a racket. That's a sound that doesn't need a volume button.

Good morning! Good morning!

In honor of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, one of the brilliant writer's of our time whose body no longer holds his spirit, but who has left the legacy of his beautiful use of words, is a quote that pretty well sums up the whole idea of the above. In a whole lot less words. One regret of my not being fluent in Spanish is not being able to read him in his own language, but this seems like it might be true to the translation.

“There is always something left to love.” 

~ Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Have a surprise your senses Saturday. Do something serenely spectacular.