The beginning of morning light was coming through the break in the curtains and woke me from my dreams. But this morning was different. What was normally peaceful and quiet was interrupted by the crash of what sounded like stones being dropped one by one onto the metal roof of my house. I thought it might be rain, but these were distinct thuds of something hard being dropped onto a tin roof. It got me up and out of my bed at 5:45.
As I got up I began to hear what sounded like a wild boar giving an excruciating birth, I was both in fear and also excited to go outside and take a look. The guttural moans became louder and continued back and forth between locations. It was a painful symphony of guttural moaning.
As I walked out onto my porch it was already dawning light outside. The endless varieties of trees were in a full spectrum of greens amidst the low light. I looked into the trees above my casa to see a colony of Howler monkeys picking nuts and throwing them onto my roof. They seemed to find a sense of entertainment and humor in the situation and appeared to be almost smiling.
The howling and moaning continued to ensue. I knew that Howler monkeys were to be found throughout Costa Rica. I had seen two on my first morning walk. But this was an army of them, living in the trees just over my peaceful house and perhaps finding entertainment in throwing loud nuts onto my roof before anyone should be awake in the world.
I decided to try to communicate with them, uttering my own versions of guttural moans. I felt primitive and at one with my distant cousins in nature.
Every other week during 2023 I will be posting an excerpt from my upcoming book, Five Thousand Steps: A Rainy Season in Costa Rica. It is a travelogue of sorts, my journals and observations from my initial three months in Costa Rica along the Guanacaste Coast. I hope you enjoy following the journey.
Field Notes
The Song of Tea by Lu Tung, Chinese Mystic, Tang Dynasty The first cup moistens my lips and throat. The second shatters my loneliness. The third causes the wrongs of life to fade gently from my recollection. The fourth purifies my soul. The fifth lifts me to the realms of the unwinking Gods
Archives
Enjoy four years of past articles from the journey in the archives.
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Zen and Ink Journals represents hundreds of hours of writing over the past decade, sometimes from a train in remote China or a coffee shop in Kyoto, a hammock in Costa Rica or a simple cabin on a mountaintop in Boquete, Panama or Ciudad Colón.
On these pages, I share my observations of kindness and beauty from my adventures in the world and invite you to listen quietly for the call within you to explore the places that beckon your soul.
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Oh those Howler monkeys! And I love the poem too!