Night and Bright and Catepillars Too

Living in a beautiful place has its ups and downs (really). Last night was one of the ups; a combination of what? Friends, new friends, music, talk, laughter. But like the ingredients for any recipe, in the hands of some the result will be edible but nothing spectacular. Take the same ingredients and put them in the hands of someone who deeply, intuitively understands weights and measures, timing and temperature, plus a bit of fairy dust that some chefs call love and you have something exquisite to the eye and palate. You can't buy it, you can't sell it, you can only try to describe it and usually fail at that. That was last night.

The boys were having fun

Locals and visitors mixed it up in listening, laughter and conversations spanning Sahara dust clearing away to leave a cool, breezy evening to music to insidious plans to take Costa Bonita to a new, expanded and unwelcome level. They don't call it Costa Bonita anymore but a cesspool by any other name will smell the same.

No one expected the Low Spark of High Heeled Boys but...sparks happen.

The streets weren't ringing with reggaeton and fast traffic, the mood was mellow. Life is good. Have I mentioned that? I will again.

This morning on my way to check on and feed my critters (yep, I'm still house sitting in town) I was behind the guys who work hard on recycling. It's not easy here, as most activities to make this world a better place usually aren't, but people are trying. Every litter bit helps.

Thanks, guys!

On the home front, I noticed some leaves from the catepillar tree on the ground, blackened as if burnt. That meant only one thing, a thing a glance confirmed. They're baaaack!

Bending over backwards to decimate this tree.

As much as I hate it when the gorgeous foliage and flowers are stripped by these dedicated chewers, this is still fascinating to observe. Everything has a season. The tree doesn't die and will come back better than before, even though each time I worry it won't.

Orange, various shades of purple and white blossoms dominate in my yard. I once thought I'd have a 'white' garden, but then Nature decided to mix it up. Birds and iguanas and wind distribute and multiply various keepers and weeds - my job is to help balance it out. That works.

Across the street, the flamboyant is living up to its name. I keep thinking there will be a lessening of blooms but instead it is more vibrant, more outrageous than ever. For the first time, instead of looking like a gangling teenage boy, it has come into its own.

Have a sensate satiated Saturday. Do something sweetly satisfying.