Amidst many adventures that vary from:
cliff, house and rock jumping,
beach-slip and sliding,
island camping,
bbq and bon-firing,
midnight cave diving,
vivid snorkeling,
illegal turtle hugging,
being molested by a turtle (that is a story for another time),
spear fishing,
paddle boarding,
outrigger canoeing,
hiking, and
golfing,
there had been one remaining experience i craved.
That experience, was to be in a serene moment on a beach, engulfed in sunshine while watching the engulfer set upon the endless ocean, resting topless on a lawn chair, sand between the toes, and margarita resting in hand. Today that happened, and the smoke from my ash-ended cigar held in opposite hand of the margarita, exceeded the moment, and solidified the momery. There I sat with with the bearings of my creation on each side of me, mother on the left and father on the right. We sat nestled in under a tin roof that was pinnacle of the cove, and directly across from us the sun sat behind an island, igniting the sky. Competition with the conversation was provided by each clear blue wave as it softly crashed on the shore. This is moment, the idealistic moment, was made a reality, and all at once, i knew i was on and at the end of my vacation.
So now i lay less than 30 yards from that same beach, nestled on a friends couch, watching geckos discover the ceiling amongst the cover of a dark night. The stars are bright, and i will watch them until the hourly shower of rain comes, then go back inside and sleep until another day of tropical amusement is brought to life by the sun. That is, if the children that also live in this house don't wake earlier and decide they want another early morning wrestling match.
I still have one more day, then as the locals say, "Back to the mainland ya? Shoots."
Thank you God. Thank you God.
Oh and did i forget to mention that i just realized yesterday after being here for 6 days that i am three hours behind California, not ahead... wow...
