Walk This Way on Culebra

I had decided yesterday to take a walk today to see one of my favorite trees. I decide lots of days I'm going to take a walk and end up walking about as far as the back porch. It's walking, but not exactly what I planned. But today, waking up, putting on real clothes, feeding the cat and finishing my coffee occurred before the sun was really beaming so why not roll on with it?

Today was a SEVA food giveaway day and people were lined up from the old school to the new(er) school and around the corner. I don't know what's in this week's box of goodies but I do know there is a lot of gratefulness up and down the line. Plus, I got to say hello and have mini-chats (masked/safe distancing, yes) to a whole bunch of people I've missed seeing, a one step at a time smile fest. 

The tree, as I was told, was in bloom, without, as I was also told, very many leaves, but alive and beautiful, well worth the walk (she wrote, alliteratively). 

Half-dressed works for me

I need to go back with the real camera

Since I was already that far, I thought I'd go check on another favorite tree, the rainbow eucalyptus. Sadly, it's dead, rumors of it not making it through the hurricanes turned out to be true. Vale, dear tree, I hardly knew ye. Someone needs to grow another one here. Or ten. 

It wasn't difficult to cheer myself up on the way back. This is a walk that I've taken hundreds of times with well over more than a decade living at the shack and it's always interesting to see what's new, what's changed, what's going on. Sometimes it's good, sometimes not so much but always, always interesting. 

This is the largest cashew I've ever seen! it would fill a child's palm.

I've never seen this boat before, but its Crayola colors are inspiring me! Plus, that bimini looks like a very good idea as well. Hmmm.

I think I have a project coming up!

There are a few homes on Culebra that are as special as certain trees. Some have fallen into disrepair just like some have been fixed up over the years. This is one of my favorites. I hope they just keep it fresh with paint and never change anything else. 

As my Dad used to say when I made a clumsy move,
that first step is a doozy. 

There was also something on this walk I'd never seen before. Or maybe I have but forgot, which always makes for new discoveries. When I first saw this, I thought it was a bird's nest, and how weird that it would be on a wire. That thought lasted about a nanosecond as its mossy self became apparent. It reminded me of a ball of Spanish moss; I'll leave it to more educated planty friends to name. 

The light made the blooms iridescent. A better camera would have been...better. 

The sun was turned on full bore by now, but a breeze was happening too. There was still a long line of cars waiting, though not quite so long, some with towels or papers to block the heat ball, and no one was complaining. 

Welcome home, Johnny! Your self-quarantine will end soon enough,
thank you for playing by the rules, though I'd expect no less.
Those of you who come here and DON'T self-quarantine 14 days
including not going in the shops? No thanks for you.

Have a safe walkabout Wednesday. Do something wanderble. Yes, I made that up.

Catching Up in Culebra Time

Technology rules. And I don't mean that in a homecoming queen way, I mean it really does rule! As in, out on the houseboat, how long it takes to upload a photo or video or say, a blog post. Or, more accurately, how long means it is almost never. But here at Housesitting Hill, there is Wifi so here we go!! I think.

First, it's been hot. Really hot. The kind of hot that makes your face feel like it's melting. Because it is. And it's been still. Lake/mirror/flat/beyond calm still. The intermittent breeze comes along and changes everything from your mood to your skin. We've even gotten some showers, usually followed by flat calm and steam rising from the streets. And then there was the wave of Sahara dust, making all that hot flatness stranger still, and grittier. 

Believe it or not, this isn't really a complaint, it's just how it is. I could be living in a jungle or a city or a small town in Nebraska - ok, maybe not a small town in Nebraska, no offense, Nebraskans, no ocean there - and I'm fortunate enough to live here instead. So as ever, look for the beauty, it's everywhere!

I have a lot of kayakers in the bay where I live.
This was a good early morning for them.

A number of these have been on Facebook, but I know there are people who read this who don't use that platform, so if it's a repeat for you, sorry!

I'm always amazed to be reading or cooking, some enjoyable but mundane thing
and happen to glance out the door. Sometimes it literally makes me stumble.

There are some beautiful mangroves, sometimes in front of me, sometimes behind me, depending on the breeze or lack of breeze. Sometimes I don't even realize the houseboat has turned around. These photos are on the same day, at different times. I don't get tired of it. 

Morning

After a shower

Afternoon

Late afternoon. I was blinded by the light. 

Where ever in the world you were for the full moon rise, I hope you had a clear sky to see it, it was spectacular. I didn't use my real camera because I couldn't load ifrigging technology never mind 

A couple of oh my glory sky moments.

There was a wonderful market, put on by Proyecto SEVA (this link is the English translation, it can easily be switched to read in the original Spanish) that brought out our local artists, with paintings and textiles and plants and food. I brought home hot sauce from Digna, a boat from Jose (to purchase history is soul satisfaction) and a handcrafted bowl from Walt, made from our local acacia wood. There was much, much more to choose from and lots of people went away happy. This is just a sampling of what was on offer. 

Sue Zinkowsi with her prints and paintings. 

Liz with her hand done mola. She had a few more
really beautiful pieces and I heard they all sold!

Kate always has something for everyone.

Walt and Matt with their crafts. 

I'm guessing these are from plants the kids grow at the school.

It was a wonderful way to start the morning and I hope there is a repeat this winter for all the people who I know wish they'd been able to make this one. Bravo to all involved. 

From another perspective later on in the day, a day that the air was cooler and the breeze was consistently and gently blowing. It almost felt like an early winter day, Culebra style. 

It was clear enough to see the top of El Yunque.
After the days of dust, the clarity seemed even sharper.

It doesn't show here, but there were, on this 3 day weekend,
LOTS of boats zipping back and forth.
Being outside was the place to be.

The sun was still high but the light was changing.

The day drew beautifully to its closing

Most people I know here are outside a lot. We notice and comment on even the slightest shifts in the weather, because we feel them. We barely have to, but do excuse sweaty faced hugs and pay attention when we're not dripping wet. It's a good way to live and it doesn't mean we don't want to stay in the Post Office or any other air conditioned place just a little bit longer than our errand requires; we're weird but we ARE human! So as this season winds down, I won't mind a lowering of the temperature, seeing different things blooming, greeting old friends who will start trickling in over the next month or two or three. For now, it's just keeping my eyes open through the sweat in them and shifting mental gears to the good around me. 

Have a tantalizing Tuesday. Do something tireless.