let me paint you a picture

the mid-afternoon sun hit the water at such an angle it turned the most intense shade of turquoise i've ever seen in nature. i took a deep breath and pointed at it, i am sure. the spray from the boat's quick accelerations hit my right arm, stretched over the side of the boat, as my left hand served cold bites of watermelon into my mouth after a long, hot, dry day of hiking. it was the best watermelon i've ever tasted. i spit the seeds over the edge like a kid in a contest on the fourth of july.

the boat settled into a sort of routine atop the swells and the pounding of the water beneath the hull and the comfort of the shade on board lulled me into a sense that, at that exact moment, all was right with the world. listening to the spanish of the driver, helper, and guide over the drone of the engine reminded me i was thousands of miles from home in the pacific ocean. i'd spent a day smelling the dry season in the rain forest. we began our day as mist rose above the land lining the ocean. dolphins were our welcome committee as we entered the water off the border of the national park. as they exhaled into the air above them, their sighs sounded eerily human. the water lapping outside the boat was warm, even as the sun was asserting herself in the sky.

but, back to that turquoise water. i could be there, forever, on that boat, with those sounds, with those views. the warm air filled my lungs that had been too cold all winter long. the sun, with her strength, woke us in the morning and defined the day as it unfolded. at that exact moment, it was showing off the beauty inherent in the watery world around us, against the backdrop of the greens and golds of the shoreline. i didn't want to shut my eyes, not even for a second, for fear i might miss something. moments like those are what i carry with me. this is my most recent. it helped me through today. i needed that water today.