Embracing the nature surrounding me on my last day of silence at Playa Viva, an eco-conscious treehouse resort in Mexico, I am taking in all my senses, one step at a time, noticing the exotic beauty around.
Looking at the birds flying above the raging waves makes me wonder if, among them, some are more brave, more skilled, or more kind. A few are just about to be swallowed by the whiteness of the ocean, but somehow they know where the curve of the water ridge will fall, and they glide dangerously close to it β untouched, unburdened, and unimpressed by the raging vastness below them. Surrendering. Mindful. Magnificent.
Last night was the only time the thirsty mosquitoes rested. They all seemed to have moved out, knowing that something was about to happen, something that my lazy senses couldnβt catch. Around three oβclock in the morning, for the first time since my arrival on my seven-day refuge in this pristine ocean shore, the loud talk of the waves was overpowered by the song of the rain. The enigmatic greenery of the jungle rejoiced, engulfed in freshness. The mosquitoes, aware that it is not their night to go out and drink until dawn, stayed hidden, nonexistent, and like us, silent. Only the crickets didnβt stop their usual gaiety, their chirpy voices still carrying the same lilting songs above the resting sands and over the playful waves. They sang, oblivious to Mother Natureβs roar. Maybe it was a new aria they played tonight, but my sleepy awareness couldnβt catch the fine-tuning in their cheerful music.
One last night in this exotic company! So far, a snake came to visit and left β checking wisely on us, perhaps even satisfied with what it saw, disappeared with authoritative calmness, dissolving into the green abundance around. A scorpion also dropped by for a visit, but wasnβt fortunate to have its busy life spared, perishing under human fear. The baby turtles went to look for their maturity in the ocean, forced to grow up fast. Itβs somehow paradoxical that they live a slow-paced long life, but they need to grow up at once when the waves kiss and invitingly swallow them for the first time. To grow meticulously old, they have to become wise in an instant.
What a luxury to be a part of this roaring, biting, singing, hissing, and bewitching paradise! One with nature β embracing it in silence.
