Sky #268

This morning I learned that the day gets started well before 6am. It was the powerful scent of ham being cooked that woke me today. My windows stay open all day and night so the smell came in strong. A few minutes later, after listening to the roosters, I decided to get up. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (without coffee even), I was awake.

But coffee was definitely the first item on the agenda after figuring out what time of day it was. The descent to the bottom of the stairs was much easier this morning, almost not registering in my mind. A couple more days of this life and the ache will be a distant memory.

5:50am. The sky is already blue. Puffy white clouds and streaks like waves of sand on the beach stretch out in every direction. 76 °F.

I make a cup of coffee. I gather the little bit of trash I have to put in the rusted-out oil drum beside the road. Yesterday while pedaling home in the late afternoon, Jorge pulled up beside me (pedaling his bike) and we had a nice conversation about life here. He informed me that today is trash day. Judging from all of the small fires yesterday afternoon around the neighborhood, Monday is burn-your-trash day.

At 6:15am, school girls walk by in their uniforms, backpacks over their shoulders. At 6:25am, a truck comes by to collect the garbage. A short diesel truck, a little longer than a standard pickup. There’s no compactor, just a flatbed with high metal sidewalls and lined with a wooden interior. Four minutes later and they’ve left the street having collected everything in the barrels.

At 7:06am, the last of the school children walk up the dirt road. Reggaeton plays at the house to the left. Two men greet each other and talk just outside the gate before beginning cement work on the wall across the street. Babies cry, dogs bark, roosters still crow. A woman rides by on a bike with a squeaky wheel, a small child in the basket. The day has clearly begun.

It seems to me now that to not be awake at this hour is both lazy and indulgent. Still, any feeling of guilt that may come with sleeping in on any given day will be lost on me here in paradise, I am certain.

Pura vida. 🙂

About the Author

Hello, I'm Scott. I take photos. Do things. Whatnot. Mixed Digital Media Artist.

Related Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *