The water here is the child of emeralds and the sky. It is as warm as a bath, but feels like a joyful hug from your grandmother.
Puffer fish, in various stages of desiccation, lay scattered in the sand. Pelicans cluster and discuss the state of the beach, the water, how the fishing was today, and plans for later. Seagulls are alert, yet respectful of personal space. Frigate birds in the hundreds soar over cliffs.
We have been four days here, at Playa Tecolote. Our only concerns being food, water, and beer.
The sun is strong, a relentless friend beside me, moment to moment.
We spend our time delighting in finding things that have been lost in translation, sharing culture, stories, food and drink with Eduardo y Rosina – the newlywed couple from Ciudad de Mexico who have been cycling the Baja on their honeymoon.
They are so fresh, full of life, and in love with each other. Both are badass, each in their own way. He, as a counterculture music engineer, she, a Greenpeace activist.
The waves rush in steadily, not caring if we are here, but their presence demands notice, whether they be gentle or something more intense. Listening to the waves, seeing them, feeling their rhythm and power, one bears witness to the ebb and flow of something eternal or timeless.
The waves of the Sea of Cortez. Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
Alive with the breath of mothers. And their mothers. And all the mothers. Forward and backward until time and mothers lose their meaning and become simply the awareness of belonging. This is warmth in a way that deep down inside, we all are leaning toward, like petals in the sun, shells in the sand.
Pop Tart Travels 