One chill January morning as we bundled into layers for our four mile predawn walk, Larry said, “we need to go somewhere warm!” I think he meant Florida, but in the absence of specificity, I took the challenge and ran with it. And that’s how we ended up a few weeks later, blinking in the bright sunlight as we stumbled off a Delta flight in San José, Costa Rica. Five years earlier, we’d spent a fabulous week with some of our kids in this tropical central American country, riotous with colorful flora and fauna and fowl. It was time for a redo.
Larry and I are not lie-on-the-beach vacationers; tropical beverages and sunshine sound lovely but we need to be active to be happy. Ideally the ratio of nature to throngs of people is weighted heavier towards nature. I am our resident trip planner and this time, my research led me to Hotel Three Sixty, a boutique resort which checked every box! Located along the pacific coast in southwestern Costa Rica, the resort is literally perched on top of a mountain, overlooking rainforests, mountains and the ocean. For 360 degrees, everywhere you look, there is a photo waiting to happen (thus the name).
It was after dark when we ascended the crazy steep, unpaved, bumpy road to our weeklong home, so we got our first glimpse of paradise the next morning. From the comfort of our balcony overlooking the forest treetops and the gentle ocean waves, we watched the theatre that is dawn. This theatre was resplendent with an accompanying orchestra of birds, whose sharp calls were unfamilar to us. Our Cornell Lab Merlin Bird ID app told us their names: Tinamou, Bright-rumped Attila, Streaked Flycatcher, Mealy Parrot, Three-wattled Bellbird, Laughing Falcon, and many more.
The next morning we were ready at 6:30am for our taxi ride to a touring company for Corcovado National Park. We were handed two steaming to-go cups of coffee by the attentive staff as we exited. Our taxi driver was determined to clock the shortest time down the rugged mountain road, potholes be doomed. With coffee sloshing and burning our hands, (forget about taking a sip!) Larry and I got the giggles. I asked him if he thought it would be okay to roll down the window and chuck everything out. Sometimes laughter is the only appropriate response.
For Larry and I, the parrots were the true quintessential symbols of our Costa Rican experience; morning and evening, when the birds were most active, we would scan the sky and the trees for green parrots. All would be silent and then suddenly, the trees would come alive with squawking and wings fluttering. The birds had been there all along, surrounding us, but camouflaged in the foliage. We learned to pick them out as flying dots in the distant sky, because of their distinctive flight profile. Mealy parrots look like flying bowling pins with propellor wings flapping rapidly. With childish glee, we daily made fools of ourselves as we tried to spot the parrots.
One of the challenges of being a mature age is not giving in to cynicism; you’ve been around the block a few times and life has landed some hard punches. Becoming jaded, guarded and cynical is the easy default. I realized near the end of our glorious vacation that we were still looking for parrots, literally and figuratively. The world is a beautiful place and I hope to always have eyes and an open heart to take it in.