This morning was calm. The birds worked their usual favorite
spots - one, a point just south of our house in Bahia de
Los Angeles; the sea was slick and the breeze from the north.
The village is ramping up for the Fourth of July holiday.
Americans with boats and without are pulling into town as though
some unseen floodgate has been opened. The small hotels are
almost full; restaurant tables are filled, the boats booked well
in advance. There is no permanent electricity and only an
occasional phone call reaches its destination. Even then, the
phones are satellite, their communications scratchy broken with
waits of indeterminate length between sentences and the
connectivity questionable - I guess the Internet helps as
folks continue to find their way here regardless. The presence
of tourists must be beneficial to the locals. And thus it continues.
We left the house, south of the village and headed to La Gringa,
the northernmost point still within the bay of Angels and some
15 kilometers from our home. It was still sunny then. We stopped
in the village for breakfast and continued on. By then it was
nearing midday and the dirt road, while wide and graded was not
an easy drive as there were no shadows which help the driver
isolate rocks positioned in the roadway. The sun was shining
brilliantly and the water still calm even so late in the morning.
The new La Gringa fence is still standing, albeit incomplete. A
dozen or so campsites were settled there along the berm that
separates the bay from the lagoon. The usual herons were present
and watched us closely. We parked and fulfilled the purpose of
our adventure - to get dog Dito into the water. He seems
intimidated by the water near our home and yet welcomes it at La
Gringa. I don't have a clue, but of course that's
nothing new. We climb out of the car and find a place amongst
the smooth rounded stones of the berm just above the
water's edge. Dito immediately submerges himself and if we
listen carefully, can hear him utter a tiny sigh at the relief
from the penetrating sun dripping off his black coat. He is our
wonderful beast - no burden involved, just love.
We hang for a half hour or so until the three of us are ready to
go home. Mary Ann and I are longing for the half-hour ride south
with air conditioning. Dog Dito is just happy to be with us.
It's not difficult to tell when Dito is excited: he runs
daringly forward without looking back and leaping in his
exaltation of where he might be going next. He doesn't care
as long as he's with us. Sweet beasts are hard to find.
We clamber back into the truck, the three of us. Dito's in
the back seat and Mary Ann and I are in the front. Dito is
looking for a way to belong and finds his definition of
belonging by placing his muzzle between Mary Ann's and my
bodies. This works for him until I shift gears striking Dito
squarely on the forehead and he retreats amongst my heartfelt
apologies. We're so busy with all this attention to
substructure that we fail to notice the ominous clouds to the
south, actually directly over our house and the houses of our
friends. It was clear that significant rain was falling onto the
eastern Punta Roja and environs.
Mary Ann catches her breath and manages to get out "Look at
that." She's pointing to the south as I am watching
the roadway. Instantly the road is illuminated even brighter
than the afternoon central Baja sun. A lightening bolt has risen
from earth into the heavens (or the reverse?) Life seems frozen
for half an instant and then continues. The road is in front of
us and I'm at the wheel and we're going slow over the
nasty washboard that leads to and from La Gringa lately. And the
sky is filled with major bolts of lightning that guide us home.
And a rain began to fall.
It was questionable, the rain, as it was already hot and very
humid for this time of year, so much so that I constantly
question my friends and others as to the actual significance of
global warming. We hear about it so much these days while most
of us are off making ends meet I wonder where we are actually
going. And just to be going somewhere: is that in itself a valid concept?
No matter. It's now - if only just for a moment - a
secondary issue, the global warming deal. Major lightening bolts
in front of us are emitting from or falling to earth and
we're positioned in a truck that I think is indestructible
but not and major flashes of white bright light are with us.
Even with the sky full of heavy black clouds the lightening
makes it brighter than a clear day. Somehow we arrive home
amidst my wondering if we have changed our environment: is this
small planet just going through its usual cycles, or have we
invoked changes to Earth's patterns? If so, are these
recoverable? Are they not?
We prepared for then went to bed. Lightening flashed throughout
the night. Soon the thunder followed. By then we were asleep and
dreaming. We each dreamed our own dreams, integrating the
flashes sensed through closed eyes and the thunderous roars
heard subconsciously. I awoke throughout the night, worried
about the threat my mind perceives. Occasionally the entire
house shakes with the lingering crashes of thunder. Then soon
again I am back to my dreams.
We are where our dreams have taken us.