Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Watching the Sunset in Punta Zicatela


A second installment from my trip to Mexico...

How can I possibly find the vocabulary to describe where I am, sitting on the terrace of a thatched palapa overlooking the Pacific ocean just north of Puerto Escondido in Mexico? There are huge craggy rocks and several types of cactus growing out of  them, and the sort of evergreen undergrowth indigenous to this coast.

It’s maybe five or six minutes from sunset, the sky has taken on a rosy glow, the sea is crashing underneath, the waves rolling onto the white sand underneath. It’s a blissfully peaceful moment, almost spiritual – the house goes quite, no one wants to speak for fear of breaking the spell.

Tim is swaying quietly in the hammock, I’m on one of the low wooden chairs, barefoot, just watching mesmerized as the golden ball of sun sinks slowly over the sea and disappears below the horizon like a giant free-range egg yolk. The little fishing boats are speeding towards the harbour. The pelicans are flying slowly home to roost by the lagoon. The colours of the sky and the clouds are changing from burnished orange to dusky pink, gold, to bluey greys and eventually almost charcoal. Suddenly, bats fly out from under the eves in their hundreds, like tiny little birds. When the glow of light leaves the sky the cicadas start to sing in the undergrowth and a little gecko (tiny lizard) clucks as it races up the wall. How can such a tiny lizard make so much noise? I don’t feel like moving.

In a natural landscape like this one can understand how ancient Mayans worshipped the sun. 

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