Sigh, Monday just slipped away like one of those small lizards that race over the patio and up the walls at night.

Truly, we meant to put pen to paper or at least fingertips to keyboard, but, the morning just burned away into this brilliant, acrylic blue sky, exotic birds called to one another from the jungle behind, and the ocean, only a block away, ebbed then flowed like the gentle breathing of my sleeping loved one.

After breakfast perhaps, a walk to town first or on the beach, marveling at the synchronicity of the pelicans weaving a way over, around and though the waves, inches above the crest, adjusting flight for each undulation of the sea, an auto pilot movement as natural as the moment itself.

There’s a sailboat on the horizon and the cutest little boy selling tiny plastic toys from a straw hat in the plaza, just off the beach. Once we stop to cool ourselves in the square he shyly approaches placing them in a solemn line upon Barbie’s thigh, their figurine bobble heads nodding in silent encouragement.

He’s standing on one foot, then the other, finger to his lips, smiling, eyes darting to a group of women beyond, who, back dropped by a colorful mural depicting the countryside, are sitting and weaving baskets together on a long bench. They laugh and talk among themselves while watching our small play.

He whispers to us names in single syllables as a very slightly older boy attempts to set the boundaries of the bargain; we repeat them back, some in English, some not so much; dinosaurs and burros, caballeros on miniature mounts, fat, smiling pigs and brightly painted turtles.

Then it’s back to our patio, playing cards with pastel straws for betting, sipping tequila and lime, waiting for an appetite to arrive, another stroll into town, sitting at these remarkably clean tables

lining the curb yet still in the dusty street, plastic coverings and plastic chairs, tortillas made in the moment from a dab of masa, lime and water, a setting sun and a walk on the beach back to the casa.

Tomorrow, we’ll grasp the day a bit firmer, put thought to print and intention to action.

Yes, tomorrow, that’s what we’ll do.

Tomorrow, we can have a plan.




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2 Responses to Mexico

  1. search engine September 10, 2014 at 8:14 pm #

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    • George Tate September 16, 2014 at 1:06 pm #

      Thank you for the kind words.
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      Warmest regards,

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