of falling leaves and new beginnings

It was beautiful yesterday

I wandered through the park with my pipe and some friends. We walked past the soccer fields, past the drained and lonely swimming pool and onto tree framed, leaf covered paths. It was love, walking with good people, kicking up the crunchy leaves with our feet. We talked about deep and weighty issues, about faith and relationships and more.

The smell was fantastic.

I recently returned from spending almost a month in Costa Rica. The smells were different there. Cars and quads spitting fumes across the dirt roads, the smell of the friendly neighbourhood stray dog nuzzling his nose into your hand, and the ocean . . . the ocean with its spray and salt, the smell of being wild and untamed. So too with the earthen and ancient scent of the jungle, treading amongst the trees felt like trespassing on a territory that was never meant for humans.

I took pictures but to be honest I don't know if i want to put them up. I don't want to remember the trip by little picture vignettes. I want to remember it by the sound of crashing waves, of being woken at 6 every morning by monkeys on the tree outside my window. I want to remember the sudden torrential rainstorms that create rivers in minutes only to be replaced by sun an hour later.

I want to remember dodging potholes, and haggling with taxi drivers. Of tipping our boat on the river and thinking I might die as the white water sucked me under. I want to remember seeing an armadillo crossing the road, a toad jumping across the path in front of me, and a poisonous frog climbing a rock as i walked by.

It was a good month and now I've returned home to falling leaves and cool temperatures. A new stage has begun, one which I am terminally optimistic about. There is nothing I can do about my optimism, fantastic beginnings are afoot.