Sleeping on the beach is loud. The ocean is constantly turbulent and distracting; it’s akin to sleeping in a city in those ways. Back at home in our city I stuff my ears with cotton every night at bedtime. The discordant sounds—if quiet, muffled, or intermittent—make it impossible for me to sleep through the night.
But at the beach, the noise relaxes me…although loud, I find it regular, soothing, and perfect. Beside the crashing waves lives the wind—the rustling trees, shimmying flora and restive fauna.
This is how my forebears slept. It’s the ideal way for me to have a peaceful and full nights rest.
Funny, on the beach, if a car drives past it does not disturb my rest. But on the tarmac and brick street that is my neighborhood I’m wrestled awake by each and every one.
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| Panorama or the beached boat where Playa Negra meets the town. |
The water of Costa Rica is turbulent, directly opposite of most beaches in Antigua. I’m in love with the quiet water there. It approaches the shore tentatively, careful not to disturb a single grain of sand in it’s approach.
Costa Rican water thunders in toward the beach, raising barreling waves and snow-capped rollers, giving false hope to surfers. The rolling barrels disguise shallow depths.
Images: Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, Limon , CR
