While waiting for the storm, or round 2 (3?) of these seemingly huge rains, John and I stretched our legs today by walking to the beach to look at the size of the waves. Yes, they were bigger than normal but not BIG. What we did notice though was that despite the air feeling cool (hallelujah), the air was so water saturated that our skin’s pores weren’t exactly sweating but were rather becoming one with the air. Yes, as we watched the waves while waiting for the rain and we rejoiced in the overcast coolness, our poor pores were pouring. …

A couple of days ago I posted photos showing that the river, which separates downtown from the neighborhood where I live in La Talanguera for part of the year, has officially once again joined the sea, here in San Juan del Sur’s bay. I showed pictures of the predominantly plastic garbage that inevitably gets washed downstream with the rise in the river. Wow, even what looks like an entire tree! Now, THAT would have been interesting to see floating down the river! I’m glad the panga was safe and that they were out working because that’s the only way John …

Wednesday it poured. In buckets. We even let the neighbor’s two dogs (who have adopted us) inside our house for the first time ever because with the wind blowing the rain in from the west, they were shivering out on our covered front porch. The rain thrashed against the corrugated tin roofs. It turned the dirt roads to mud. Otherwise dry indentations within them became rivulets of flowing brown water. And with that the river rose. And the river joined, for the first time in six months, the sea. Sweeping its banks and earlier-dry gullies clean of plastic bags and …

Isn’t it beautiful? The Turquoise-browed Motmot, or as Nicaraguans call it, the Guardabarranco. It’s Nicaragua’s national bird. And this one I found dead today on the dirt road John and I walk every morning on our hike up to the Christ statue and back. I didn’t want to touch it (I’m pathetically squeamish) so I have no idea how it might have died.

You’ve probably seen her on the beach in San Juan del Sur, walking four dogs (one with the gait of a three-legged dog) and transporting on her hand a white parrot. She always has a smile and a wave when I greet her as I pass, typically going in the opposite direction. Well, as much of a wave as she can give with four leashes in one hand and a parrot in the other. It’s usually her parrot hand that waves, and for a split second I think the parrot, with its flutter of feathers as her hand briefly lifts …

A house with a blue fence and a pair of long johns. A girl with her dog in her arms. A girl sitting in a window with her foot resting on her bike. A green bus under a green tree. A green lizard frozen in fear. A house. An empty house. Or is it?

I am an avid reader. Probably an addict. I can no sooner imagine a life without books as I can a morning without coffee. And if I had to give one up, it would be coffee. In the last four days I have read three books: two memoirs (one by U.S. Supreme Court Judge, Sonia Sotomayor, and one by a man who is blind) and a fictional memoir (set in Baghdad). My favorite genres are Memoirs and Historical Fiction preferably set in foreign countries. I was raised in the States and in Puerto Rico. The two things I loved most …

So much has been written about how wonderful Nicaraguans are, and with good reason. Where I used to live in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, USA, we had a saying: We came for the winter but stayed for the summers. (It is a lovely ski resort town, with perfect, albeit brief, summers.) In San Juan del Sur, the saying could easily be: We came for the beauty, but stayed for the people. My husband and I have never known a warmer, kinder, more quick to smile and help, group of people than Nicaraguans. But today I found my gratefulness expanding to include …