Tuesday was a special day in the neighborhood. I wish I had pictures to capture it all, but I’m not that handy with an iPhone and don’t have a camera.
In the course of a few hours we were treated with a touch of romance, beauty, laughter and fun. First, three horses were being bathed at Sea Glass Beach. You could tell by the way they were being taken care of that they were loved. The juxtaposition of the horses and their owners in the turquoise blue water and the big racy fishing boat with the T-top and dual engines floating nearby was classic… a bit of the past, a bit of the present, all sharing the same scenic stretch of ocean. The boat rode on the water like a silent partner in the fun as the horses were washed, groomed and ridden in and around the water. Laughter, definitely from the owners, and assumed from the horses, was never in short supply. Sea Glass Beach seems to be a place where horses and their owners come to bathe on a weekly basis. You won’t find this “picture” in my neighborhood back home!
While walking home from the beach, a large and beautiful rooster called out as he strutted his stuff. I’m not an expert on birds, so I’m not really sure what “stuff” he had to strut, but his bright red comb and beautiful plumage made me smile. He was the “king of the roost” as he sat on the fence by the vacant lot where our friend Güido was born. He (the rooster) seems to be a regular these days, and the population of hens and chicks has increased quite a bit since our arrival. We still have one of the quietest neighborhoods around, however, as I can hear roosters crowing in the distance every morning (and often at night) in far away neighborhoods.
Walking down our one-way street on the way home another car crept by, going the wrong direction, once again. Almost daily someone drives down Calle Baldorioty de Castro going the wrong way. Sometimes they just come to talk to our neighbors. Other times they turn around and head back the way they came after realizing what they have done. Most just turn left at the corner and head up the hill, still going the wrong way. So far there have been a few misses, but luckily no accidents. Early Tuesday morning, to make life a bit more interesting, the garbage truck backed down our street at 2:02 a.m., going against the flow of traffic but pointed in the right direction. The good news is that between 8:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m., other than the occasional taxi or hipster car with the oversized and amplified speakers, our street is usually quiet and peaceful.
The highlight of the afternoon was the iguana. He (or she) was just a little guy (or gal) about three feet long. Gracefully perched on a tall concrete post next to our neighbor’s house, the iguana looked and acted just as proud as the rooster. He (or she) was the prettiest lime green color, and having no place to go, was perfectly content to soak up the last rays of sun in the last light of day.
Marci and Margarita, our neighbors, wanted nothing to do with the iguana, however, and they wanted it off their front porch in a most expedient manner. This dynamic mother daughter duo was bold and courageous, but from a respectful distance. First a curtain rod was used as an iguana prod, with no luck. Marci just wasn’t getting that close to her front porch friend. Then Margarita tried with a blue handled broom. Again, no luck. Finally, after much trial and error, they succeeded in forcing the iguana off the post and onto the ground. Sounds of success soon followed, with lots of cheering and excited back and forth banter in Spanish. While the words were foreign, the feeling was one of shared exuberance. We all had a good laugh.
The iguana, of course, wanted none of it, so he (or she) headed across the street at a rapid clip and wandered into Güido’s carport. By then Marci was calling out to Güido and his wife, Olga, in Spanish, and sharing the iguana’s newest trajectory. I went down to help, only to find Güido trying, rather forcibly, to coax the iguana out of the carport with a broom and into the side yard, which is long, narrow, and surrounded by a tall chain link fence. Unknown to Güido, of course, Olga had come down into the side yard to help, and she was soon surprised by a three foot iguana heading in her direction. There was a lot of shrieking, a lot of rapid fire commentary in Spanish (perhaps it is good that I don’t yet know the language), and a lot of laughter when it was all over.
As darkness fell, end of the day greetings were exchanged, doors were closed to keep the bugs out, and a sense of calm fell over the neighborhood.
Life is simple here. The lessons to be learned are priceless.