Red Frog

Wanderlust is tucked in a peaceful cove, a marina protected on all sides buy a lush tropical forest, cheerful neighbors wave from their cockpits nursing sundowners, waiting for the “green flash”, or duly tinkering on boat chores in the cooling late afternoons.

A walk in a well groomed jungle path leads to a beach bar where surfers and backpackers wrap up their days doing what beautiful people do. Salt encrusted long hair dangles over back rests of wooden benches, moonlight shines through baggy tank tops and faded prints of sharks, turtles and surf boards, summer dresses wave sinuously over tanned and toned figures; reggae vibes. A breeze, chilled by the ocean, keeps my beer cool and I take time remembering how to feel young. 

Colorful birds, sloths, capuchin monkeys and tiny red frogs decorate the luscious leafy canopy this holiday season, star lights are shining and twinkling through the foliage. The gifts, at the base of the tree, cannot be wrapped, they can only be enjoyed, felt and loved. 

I am overwhelmed by emotions of abundance but my impatient toes keep curling nervously in the wet sand drizzled by the ocean mist. I feel a battle ensuing; the struggle between the forces of comfort and curiosity. I feel the drag of well worn routines, chill a little longer, indulge a little more, wake up a little later. My soul, hardened by ocean miles, roughed up by weather and exposure is getting softer. Come on, relax! Tis the season to be jolly after all. But the fire of curiosity still burns hot, Wanderlust’s hulls were shaped for churning waves not for growing barnacles at the dock. Like a poisonous tiny red frogs of innocuous appearance too much comfort can spoil your lust for wander.

Happy Holidays, I’ve got to keep moving.