Rain

Rain on bougainvillea at night. Cozumel, Mexico.

Ah, here I am, all ready for supper, sparkly eyeshadow and all and it is raining, raining and the wind is blowing and of course, we only have the scooter.
Ah well. There are always cabs.

What a very nice day. We did snorkel and I saw a fish eat a fish! I saw skates and an eel. I saw a barracuda slipping off into the deep. They are shy, those fish. They know that there are people who want to spear them. There is something so incredibly soothing about snorkeling. Maybe it is, as one of you dear ones said in a comment (I am reading them, I am cherishing them!) that snorkeling is like a meditation. You breathe in and you breathe out. You can hear your breath, it is steady and slow as you move through the water. Your eyes are focused on the coral walls and the tiny fish swimming in and out of them, the larger fish, schooled up and treading water, waving back and forth with the current. There. That is all you need. That breath, that sight. It is so amazing to me that you can be so close to the surface that you can hear the birds call while being in a completely different world, so very, very close and yet, unless you are in it with a mask, there is no comprehension of it at all. It might as well not even be there.
But.
There.
You are and it is there and there are probably worlds upon worlds we have no idea of.

I took a beautiful walk this morning. Mr. Moon started out with me but he has a blister and had to come back to the room to get a band-aid. On my way home, I found him, sitting on a bench, waiting for me. I was so glad to see him. On my walk I saw men cutting the grass with machetes in front of villas. I saw a woman walking with another woman and she had her beach things in a bundle on her head. She was so straight and so golden that I thought perhaps she was a statue, walking. I saw four very old abuelas, walking together, holding each other up. They wore dresses in butterfly colors. I saw butterflies of red and black and yellow.

We drove down to Playa Corona at sunset time. Would Rogellio be there? The Mayan pirate? Oh yes, there he was, big as life.
"You are still alive!" he said. "I was just thinking of you!" He shook Mr. Moon's hand and hugged me. I couldn't help it. I pressed his head to my lips and kissed his cheek hard. I'll never forget that first time we saw him, twenty-four years ago, standing on the dock. Rogellio does not look like anyone else in this world, believe me. He looks more like himself than anyone I've ever met. I said to Mr. Moon, "Remember when you went night diving with Rogellio? And I was so worried?"
"Is that what we told you?" he said. "Night diving?"
Haha.
I can't wait to introduce Jessie and Vergil to Rogellio. I have known Rogellio longer than Jessie has been alive.

They are getting in tomorrow, those two. Their plane lands at 1-something in Cancun and then they will have to get a bus to Playa del Carmen and then get the people ferry to Cozumel. I have no idea when they'll get here. I hope we're at the ferry dock when they arrive but our back-up plan is for them to meet us at Plaza Leza on the square if we don't. It's a small island. We won't lose them.

Well, the storm may be abating. It was something there for awhile. Rain pouring and lightening and thunder and the wind howling through the outside hallways. Rain is always a blessing, even if it does interfere with your supper plans.

I really want some chicken enchiladas tonight. I am serious.

Plus- sparkly eyeshadow? Hello, Ixchel? I have been doing my best to worship you and all you stand for. Are chicken enchiladas too much to ask?

Ah-lah. There will be chicken enchiladas.

I am in heaven.

And yes, I miss my children. I miss my grandchild. But oh, I have this man here. He is my love and my friend and we are already starting to read each others' minds. This always happens. And tomorrow Jessie will be here. And Vergil. And it will be different but it will be wonderful and if you think that maybe I am trying to figure out how we could all live here, somehow, someway, you are right. Dreams are good. Dreams are like tiny fish that eat tinier fish in order to grow bigger.

All right. That's all I have to say for now.

Buenos noches.

Con amor...Maria Luna