Sunday, March 11, 2012

In the Mangroves







I walked here everyday. There is a long bridge that winds over the water through the mangroves. The water is filled with turtles, tadpoles, frogs, fish, and birds of all kinds. The cranes are particularly majestic with their long necks, and there were whole trees filled with those big bold white birds. The trees are dense and they seem to grow right before you just eating up the sunshine and stretching out their leaves. Everything is just green, so green, the most beautifully brilliant green. If you close your eyes you can imagine the low hum of the bullfrogs, the deep smell of the richness of the earth, the warmth of the sun shining down through all those leaves, and you are there.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Was it all a Dream?

the beautiful green earth below

the best ocean

the greatest trees

the old man and the sea

the water

naps under palm canopies

happiness

bungalows

in a mirror








My dad and I travelled twelve hours through buses and airplanes and more buses before finally reaching a beautiful place where the waters meet the land of the Dominican Republic. Having escaped the doldrums of Pennsylvania in the winter time we were happy and light, the whole place seemed radiant, joyous, alive. The air smells different and the ocean heals you. We ate fresh fruit and cheeseburgers under the palm frond canopies. I fed colorful birds. I learned to breath air from a tank on my back in the turquoise water. I worshiped the sun all day long and took cool showers at night.

The Dominicans are a wonderful and happy people. Their country is beautiful, their cities are colorful, and their food is from heaven or somewhere even better maybe. This trip reminded me of how much I love this part of the world, I love speaking (sloppy) spanish, eating the freshest fish, and lazing in the sun. It was so nice there and when we landed in Pennsylvania and saw the snow we wondered if it had all been a dream.

And so, I think this will be my last winter here. More photos soon.
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To fare on - fusing the self that wakes... and the self that dreams.