01-19-08
We fall asleep heavily to the ringing of the frogs. We wake blearily to the insisting scratchy squabbling of the
bananaquit. The frogs are little treefrogs with a loud, nearly musical mating call that falls somewhere between our familiar spring peepers and the alarm from a reversing truck. In their thousands they reverberate and blend. The bananaquit are tiny yellow and black birds, songbirds that evolution has pushed into the hummingbird niche, feeding on the year-round abundance of flower nectar.
What i really like in the tropics, is to move slowly, or not at all, and notice that I'm surrounded by scurrying life. I realize that for some people, the phrase "teeming with lizards" doesn't inspire comfort or glee.