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SUMMER IN RINCON P.R

heliconia blossoming

heliconia blossoming

Summer, and  the day starts off steaming! The heat wakes me. As I lay in bed longer than I normally do and should.  Under the tin roof of our house I listen to it creak and expand. I know by ten o clock, under the insane heat of this tropical sun you will be able to, no lie…fry an egg up there!. I feel sorry for the trees, and I look out through the open window, wondering at them . How could they not shrivel and die ? Instead they seem not to mind the torture of the sun..they thrive. They were made for this I remind myself.

Outside, I know the garden, is like a jungle. Fruit trees , vegetables and ornament intermingle and grow.  In some parts, the wild side of the garden, the grass is almost six feet high!  I am resigned to let it run it’s cycle. Go to seed then die.

The royal palm stands straight and elegant against the backdrop of our little jungle beyond. Down in its quebrada..the wet spot when it rains, I know it will be almost impossibly cool. Wet soil with shrubs and bamboo growing. Closer to home some garden beds are slowly being over run by a volunteer ground cover which I painstakingly pull every two weeks or so. There is no stopping it however….so I let it alone in places too hard to manage.

In front the house , at the foot of the driveway, like a protective fence, the hobos and mangoes trees are growing giant companions . They creates a cool canopy ,complete with long vines that reach downward intent on touching the ground and taking root.  The fruit of the hobos litters the ground. The small round golden yellow and green mosaic they make on the pathway is an art work that I  have studied many a early morning.  If I walk bare feet I can squish their flesh between my toes. I know their scent. It reaches back into my child hood..and make my mouth water and put some joy in my heart.

On the horizon to the east, large fluffy clouds with silver in its composition holds the promise of an almost routine two o clock rain. And with the rain everything is lush and budding. Plants that once lay dormant are dressed in full verdant leaves and have managed to blossom bold elegant spikes of flowers. All fruit trees seem to be giving fruit at the same time. The garden in its summer cycle.

And what of the ocean in its summer cycle?

If I were to take a walk down to the ocean, at Tres Palmas my beach of choice, I would find that it is calm…glassy…perfect for swimming and snorkeling. Soft rippling pale yellow sand under water will go on for miles out..getting deeper and deeper..yet ,you will be able to see all the way to the bottom.

It is not yet hurricane season..where everything is churning and obscure..with impossible waves curling in the most threatening manner. No not yet..another month or so.

Mostly all tourist are gone…for now. in their place are locals..from the other side of the island with their families..come to vacation for the week end. Fast and furious fun. They will stay long after the sun has set…camping, playing music, laughing cooking, and  bonfires.

If it does not rain, the day will end with an awaited sunset, intent on lighting the sky on fire. An unearthly calm will take hold…a stillness in the air…as the sun tries to and succeeds in exploding across the sky and ocean leaving a trail of liquid gold.

Then sets in the night. Loud with the sounds of what makes this place island. Fire flies, crickets, the local small frog that sounds like a night bird. All in a symphony together..loud…but the kind of loud you don’t mind.  On the moonless nights, it will be stark all around, mysterious with a definite feeling that the supernatural is totally possible. On moon lit nights, silver blankets everything..the midnight sun, silver and glowing. A warm air caressing.

This is the island summer I have come to know and love.

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