Sol y Sonbrisas

It is dream time. This week since Winter's Solstice has been packed with images I can't ignore. The sub-conscious does this. Just try to snub dreams and they flip you one with flying cats or syringes. And this time of long nights? It's the dream's handmaiden. I sit with my latest: I am reading an article that sizzles with beauty and realize it is MY article and the author is another woman. Someone has stolen my words. So I fight like mad; contact the magazine and they send me the appropriate forms to make it right. I have only to fill them out. Do what I must, but take back my writing.

I journeyed at dawn on the first day of winter to the high-lonesome desert valley of Whitewater Draw.  I have been there many times but this dawn, intended to greet the new sun, was as spectacular as it gets. The eastern sky turned neon tangerine as thousands of wading, waking sand hill cranes roused and exploded into Rorschach lines of wing. Their prehistoric calls were deafening. The metaphor of birth gets no more powerful than this. Who needs a static nativity scene?

On Christmas Day, Emilie, her Kansas City friend Cece, Ron (as in Alaska Ron), Teak and I formed a caravan in Nogales, USA and headed for Kino Bay in Mexico. Three vehicles and La Perla, we breezed through the border and all check points. It was my usual easy entry into Mexico, although it's no longer typically as simple. There are more border checks; and I keep to the new rules for safety...stick to the toll roads and travel from 9:00 a.m. until 4:00 p.m. when the most traffic is on the road.

Kino Beach at Sunrise

Destination: Islandia RV Park. Emilie's trailer is parked permanently here; Cece rented a casita (as I have always done until now) while Ron and I looked for a place to park La Perla, my truck and his van. And, a place large enough to put up the 10 X 10 tent he gifted me...a separate space for my study or whatever purpose might appear. We are just a few feet from the ocean; the sound of gentle waves is a constant; and the beach scene of Mexican fishermen and children fills my heart. It's Kino Viejo (Old Kino), the original Mexican town; as opposed to Kino Nuevo (New Kino), the blinding white line of gringo condos that lines the beach a few miles to the north. 

Whale Bone Skull on Isla Alcatraz

I seek a rhythm. I walk the beach every morning for several miles and stop somewhere along the way to do my stretches. I listen to one or two language tapes a day. And, I gear up to write daily. But that hasn't happened yet. Yesterday morning Ron stepped onto the ancient stone boat ramp, cast his fishing line and came up with two beautiful flounder within twenty minutes. And so we had fish and eggs for breakfast (which followed a dinner the night before with Em and Cece of shrimp, calvina fish and chocolate). Then we boarded a panga and Mexican fisherman Saul took us to Alcatraz  Island, across the bay to a shipwreck and to a beach with sand dunes several stories high. I collected exquisite shiny reddish brown snail shells, two ribs from a sea turtle shell and a bleached breast bone from a pelican. I await inspiration. I have long wanted to make a shell and bone wind chime.

Dawn's first light lays gently upon the water. I see the silhouette of neighbor Russell who sits in wait. He and Larry are a couple I've come to to love. On the other side is Dave from Durango/Tucson, sweet man, albeit more subdued. He and I share memories of beaches in Baja and other points south, including the Bay of Concepcion.

Teak Swims for the Fishermen

I am humbled by the richness of it all. Excited to be here on the cusp of many writing days. Sun and beach and a dog who draws a crowd. Teak takes her ball to one and all who walk down the beach. She drops it in front of them and beams her brown expectant eyes into theirs. Her entire body says, "Throw it! PLEASE." Kids thrill. Yesterday the ball dropped in front of a short, sweet Mexican man with a cane. He looked at me as if to ask, "Okay?" "Si, si," I smiled. The man's grin filled his face. Sonbrisa grande!

Teak brings joy to one and all. And that is the point of our time on this earth, is it not? I am smack dab where I need to be.