bites, thorns, mud, and butterflies

It’s a jungle out there ….

and the Rio Pacuare is cutting its path through the middle of Costa Rica’s lush mountains.

If you have never been in a tropical jungle it can over-stimulate the senses.  It is a mesh of layered noises, sounds, shapes, and colors.  I have witnessed myself and others be amazed by the richness.  

 

 It takes a few days before one’s eyes are able to see all the shades of green within its density where all available space is readily filled.  The orchestra of insects, bird calls, and rushing water is at first an overwhelming grey noise that eventually divides itself into specific identifiable songs that shift with time of day and climate.  As a result the jungle is a magic that creates a full-system sensuality within its dripping grasp.  

With such competition on hand the creatures (flora and fauna) of this land evolve to protect, attract, or hide.   

This last week I was reminded of the many protective mechanisms that just a few of these creatures display.  My exposed surfaces are scratched, bruised, and bitten.  What sometimes appears as soft green layers amongst the many are, upon closer inspection (or contact), well-armored systems ready to protect or attach themselves from or to you.

Even the cane grass that quickly establishes along rivers to heights often two or more meters tall are serrated with particularly effective barbs.  A 10cm scratch from mid-armpit to across my shoulder blade was acquired while trying to manipulate a 3.6m long extension pole with a camera mounted on top of it through the barbs.  Though bothersome, at the end of each day the bites and barbs act as some sort of earned wound.  A set of itchy insect bites is a reminder of the 200 meters of boulders I hopped across numerous times in the warm sun while the clatter of tucans was barely audible over the rush of the water flowing by. 

One evening after work this week while I was downloading field data onto my computer a friend "chatted" me over the internet.  I was freshly out of the shower with the surface mud and sweat from the day washed down the drain.  She was in a modern hip US city where she talked about last night’s date and her fresh pedicure.  I looked down at my legs and feet, pocked with bites, sun tanned, and scratched.  I could not have been happier – to be where I am and to be connecting to other worlds that remind us how good it can be everywhere.