It's Like Brushing Your Teeth

A wise man, a professional writer in fact, told me that writing is like brushing your teeth.  You just need to get in the habit of doing it.  And to take that analogy further, I've found that it can act as mental floss.  You start flossing and sometimes you're surprised at what comes out of the spaces between your teeth.  Heck, maybe it's even from a day or two ago!

You see so much here in a day that it's hard to choose exactly what to write about.  This morning I went down to the beach with a German volunteer, Wibke, who is helping with the large cats project.  We saw a pelican skimming the waves looking to grab a fish.  Jesus Christ lizards were scampering light-footedly across some standing water at the forest's edge and as you descend the beach trail you're constantly reminded to watch your step as leaves rustle with anole lizards scampering, frogs hopping and snakes slithering out of your way.  

I crunched through some dried palm fronds, across the hot sand, hot enough to make you wince, and into the cooler wet sand bathed by the tide.  Just over the waves there were whales swimming by.  They often visit the Golfo Dulce's deep, still waters to give birth to their calves and feed, so it's common to see them along this stretch of beach from December through May.  

This evening we headed up the hill to Cerro Osa to show some visitors the houses and buildings - thinking about potential for future student groups.  The short-list of sitings while we were there is: hawk, woodpecker, and two toucans.  We borrowed a Guinness from the fridge [to be replaced in the future, I promise] and watched the sunset.

I think it's appropriate to show a scene from the morning and one from the evening.  Everything that's stuck in between we can get to later.

First photo

When Saima and I were in Mendoza, Argentina back in July 2007, we had a run in with some not-so-nice people.  Looking back, it was definitely a bad decision to walk to the bus station that evening, just as it was getting dark.  We turned a corner and found ourselves in a secluded area and before I knew it, there was an Argentinian thug ripping my camera from my neck.  I was left stunned - after all, it was my first time on that side of a robbery:)  Fortunately we were both unscathed.  After we regained our composure a distressing thought surfaced.  Every single roll of film that I had shot over our 4 weeks in Patagonia was in that camera bag.  Now that was what really hurt.

Since then we've been saying to ourselves that one day we'll go ahead and get a new camera.  Maybe even one of those fancy-shmancy digital SLRs.  It can be hard to justify, however, when you find yourself living somewhere like Hyattsville, Maryland.  Not that there aren't some great photo opportunities in Hyattsville.  Some adjectives that one might use to describe Hyattsville would be "gritty" or "raw."  I'll just come out and say it: I'd be afraid to walk around our town with anything worth more than about five bucks!  Interpret that however you want.

So I get this great job opportunity that sounds really interesting, dynamic, challenging, rewarding, AND it's located in Costa Rica of all places.  Hmmm, seriously?  So I finally had the excuse and after a little help from the Internal Revenue Service that so graciously returned some of my money that they had been watching for me, we decided it was time.

This is an exciting time to have a digital camera.  A photo is so much more than an image frozen in time nowadays.  You can mark the exact point on the earth where the photo was taken.  You can tag the photo with myriad labels and make your whole collection searchable.  Anybody in the world can find your images if you share them.  They can be posted on the internet in a number of ways, and passed around through social networks so that your parents are able to see photos of you from college...  I hope you're getting the picture - so much scope. 

Excerpt from a chat with Saima yesterday:

Me: "I saw an agouti, four snakes, a pair of great curasows, and a single female curasow just on a short walk up to Cerro Osa." 

Saima : "That's awesome.  I can't wait to see photos."

Me: "Errr, I ... didn't have the camera with me."

So today, Saima, this one's for you!

I heard this pair of macaws, referred to as lapas in this part of the world, fly over the clearing around 3 pm this afternoon.  Embarrassed by yesterday's amateur mistake of not having my camera and looking to redeem myself in the eyes of the two people who are following this blog (I actually thought it was up to four, and now it looks like it's down to two; no matter, one day I'll compile this into a book and probably sell at least three copies!), I grabbed the camera and headed across the field.  Fortunately, Fleur, a French researcher who has spent a lot of time observing macaws, was there to feed me some tidbits while the lapas munched through guavas.  She said that this was most likely a mating pair and that they have been spending some time in their nest cavity as evidenced by their bent tail feathers.  They like to nest in hollow tree cavities, but it gets a little tight in there so their tail feathers get bent.  You might also notice that both of the birds are eating with their left claw.  It turns out that for some unknown reason, the general rule is that macaws are "left-handed."  Interesting, huh?

Return to Osa

I should probably start this out by noting that this is a test.  A test of my technological acumen (I've never blogged before), maybe a test of my will to follow through on this crazy promise to blog.  It seemed like the thing to do.  After all, what can you say when you're ready to leave and everybody says, "Stay in touch," or "Send photos," or "Oh, I'm so jealous that you are doing what you're doing while I'm stuck here doing what I'm doing."

Anyway, while you're stuck there doing what you're doing, which I'm assuming is sneaking a few minutes away from your mind-numbing work (I apologize to the few of you who really enjoy the eight stimulating and very natural hours you spend sitting and staring at a computer screen) to massage your brain with my meaningless ponderings, I find myself sitting at the Osa Biodiversity Center, jewel of Friends of the Osa.

At some point, I suppose I'll need to provide some more background about this new job that I've taken, what it entails, where it is and why the US government has forced me to leave my wife.  But that will come in due time.  For now, I'm simply knackered and aching to post this thing to make sure it works.  Tomorrow there will be photos to upload (or do you insert photos in a blog?) and if anything interesting happens, I may choose to share that as well.  For now, it's getting late and since breakfast is in eight hours, I should probably go crawl into the mosquito net.  Good night.