I’m sitting here thinking about a new blog post to write, thinking, ‘There’s nothing else to write about!’ And then I look around and remember that my life is not what most people would consider “normal.”
I’m on the balcony of a third story building at the top of a hill overlooking the western tip of a gorgeous Caribbean Island. I’m sitting among palm tree tops and overlooking the aquas and blues of the Caribbean Sea.
A hummingbird just zipped up to me, held up only inches from my arm, and only then realized that my brightly colored sundress is not in fact a delicious flower. A turkey vulture cruises by the balcony, gliding past on his three-foot wingspan en route to better hunting grounds I’m sure. A few boats rest out by the reef, hardly moving or swaying at all in these unbelievably calm waters. A few clouds rest lazily in what I would otherwise deem a fake sky for its impeccably perfect gradient of blue from horizon to horizon.
This is not a normal Friday afternoon where I come from. But now that I live in Roatan, this is all too familiar. So familiar, in fact, that while I gazed at the beauty around me and relished in its perfection, I forgot that readers living elsewhere might not even understand what I mean when I say, “It’s just a typical Friday afternoon!”
Right now, the Irish-Colombian is probably about 50-feet underwater, playing with turtles and gazing at sea fans. Lina is likely still sleeping off her morning walk, which included play time with four neighborhood dogs, taking a few minutes to sit and watch the neighborhood cows munch on the grass, and watching all the monkey lalas and other lizards scurry into the brush along the side of the road. Not bad for a brief morning mosey.
I know what my Friday afternoons used to look like: sitting in the office counting down the minutes until 5:30 so I could run outside to freedom and fun times with friends. As it’s still winter back home, that freedom would certainly be hampered by weather and I would likely have bee-lined straight to the closest bar where we could meet for happy hour.
Today, I’m relaxing in the sunshine and enjoying a cool breeze, listening to the Solgas truck drive through the neighborhood singing its song. I just came from my favorite cafe where I lingered over a latte and a conversation with a blog reader (Hi, Margaret!) and a few local friends. Soon, I’ll walk over to the dive shop to see if my Irish-Colombian has surfaced yet and wants to grab a bite to eat. Later, I’ll probably watch the sunset with a glass of wine in hand and toast to another gorgeous day.
I think I prefer my Friday afternoons now, taking in perfect moments as they happen, rather than counting away the minutes of my life waiting for something else to come.