As the Easter week celebrations reach a crescendo here in Central America we have removed ourselves and our boat to a quiet bay. Reasonably sheltered from the horrific wakes put out by the 'once a year' powerboaters, away from the insistent whining of the jet skiers and, we hope, well away from the alcohol fuelled small boat drivers.
As a confirmed atheist I cannot say that we celebrate Easter so, for me, it's an excuse to celebrate the coming of Spring. A time of renewal and growth. Of hope and fecundity! The dry season is crawling to a close, and boy has it been dry this season. Last night we had rain for the first time in weeks. Not enough to collect in any meaningful amounts but sufficient to give the air that 'just-washed' scent this morning.
The bird song was loud and insistent when I climbed into the cockpit around 7am. The Mangrove Swallows are back and seem to be chastising us for our absence. Our safety lines their grandstand for the events of the day. Cormorants diving and finally an end to the numbers of dead fish that have been around recently. Not some manmade disastar this but a surfeit of salt in the freshwater that does not agree with some of the indiginous fish...mind you the birds don't mind as they shovel up huge beaks full of ready salted cuisine!
I guess there is an opportunity for some in anothers disastar. A lesson......