We are in Mexico. We are staying at a resort we have been to a few times in the past. It’s beautiful, and large, and it can be a challenge to find stillness even here.
In the morning I sit on the beach, digging my toes in the sand, and offer prayer. In the afternoon we sit by the pool and I read the same page countless times. It takes longer to read a book here because while, on the surface, it seems as if there is more time, there are still only twenty-four hours in every day. Here, there are also the distractions of observation and imagination.
There is busyness all around: people queuing to book excursions, poolside entertainment, groups moving from the beach to the pool and back again. I spot a family of four on segways. A woman with a pair of colourful birds on her shoulders walks by, with her is a man carrying a camera. I see many people with their heads down on devices, many more taking selfies and scrolling. And yes, there are some, like me, slowly working their way through physical books too.
We return to our room in the late afternoon to shower and get ready for supper. I step out onto the deck while Gerry is in the bathroom and spot a noisy bird in the trees nearby. I don’t know his name, it doesn’t matter. His noisy antics entertain me for a few minutes and I think how easy it would be to miss such a moment of joy.
(I have not taken photographs of our time here yet. The one at the top of this page is from another vacation, in a similar place, a decade ago.)