Why do we Climb the Mountain?
More Wood Storks!
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I awoke before dawn, remembering the thrill of the day before when I was at last able to photograph a flock of Wood Storks grazing in the lagoon. The memory had me grabbing a quick breakfast of yogurt, berries and bread and heading out before 7. Would the Wood Storks gather again in the Juluapan Lagoon at high tide? Or was it just a fluke that I found them there the day before?
Some low clouds off the Pacific obscured the moon, if in fact it was still there. The Sun was yet to rise. I will start looking for the moon in the evenings as a new moon.
I counted the sailboats. There were three at anchor.
“Why do we count things?” I wondered. Snowy egrets on the beach, sailboats, height of the tide. It must be human nature. Do you find yourself counting things?
Some cultures count more than others. At least one Amazonian tribe has no word for numbers and doesn’t count at all. The same word is used for a single person and a crowd of people. Icelandic, on the other hand, has a different word for the numbers one through five, depending on what the number represents, whether the number of sheep, children, years, or something else.
The next few days are the high tides of the month. The Snowy Egrets were spaced out along the beach, one every 50 meters or so, enjoying a breakfast of fresh minnows. They all seemed to be having success, as was this fisherman.
He was the only one at La Boquita this early, pushed by the high water right up under the ramada.* He reeled in a fish as I watched. I paid the price for the photo when a large wave swept ashore, soaking my sandals.
*Ramadas are roofed structures with open sides that serve food and drink, as shown in the picture. There are at least a dozen here along La Boquita. As the tide recedes umbrellas are placed out in the sand beyond the ramadas, in some places right to the water.
I don’t mind wet feet at the end of a walk. When that happens I’ll kick off the sandals and go barefoot for a bit. But I wasn’t even over the creek yet!
I crossed the bridge and continued to the lagoon. What would I find?
A large Kingfisher perched on a wire, but flew before I could get a pic or a solid ID.. There are some really big ones here. I followed him up Butterfly Alley towards my Lagoon Lookout.
They were there! I counted at least 30! They were even closer than the previous day. At least 60 pelicans were resting behind them.
I watched them feed. They move slowly through the water, seemingly scratching the bottom, then sweeping their large partially-open beaks through the water. I know it’s a small sample, but every one of the Storks that I watched scratched with their right foot!
I decided that in my next life I would study to be a naturalist. My Master’s thesis would be entitled “The Prevalence of Right-footedness in the Wood Storks of the Juluapan Lagoon.” Well-documented with photos, of course!
By the way, one of my grandsons has set up a YouTube Channel if you’re interested. He does the editing and titles. It’s a different world over there. He gets more hits on one of the little video clips than I do here in a week! But it’s fun and a way for me to share the beauty of this place with those who aren’t readers, though I still hope to lure some of them to Substack.
The storks seem to spring straight up in the air, then fly off, suspended under their powerful wings. I watched as they headed off to the mangroves in groups of two or three.
Soon we too will take flight, leaving this beauty behind. The thought pushed me to climb the mountain. It was early, the Sun still low.
As the path steepened I wondered: “Why do we climb the Mountain?”
To feel and test our strength and prove our worth.
A Blue-gray Gnatcatcher watched me, distinguishable by the white tail.
To enjoy the moment and commune with Nature
A squadron of pelicans crossed above, taking a shortcut to the coast, then a “parade” came down the path: a married couple and their three dogs, with musical accompaniment.
To spend time with our family, pets and friends in the outdoors.
I found my old spot high above the Pacific.
To find peace.
Soon I was joined by my friend the Boulder Spiny Lizard.
To gain a new perspective on the world.
A container ship steamed out of Manzanillo heading for China, then disappeared in the foggy marine layer.
I saw, or imagined, more ships in the haze. Was it the ghost of a packet steamer, heading to Panama full of California gold? One caught fire and burned to the waterline just northwest of here in 1862.
Or was it the Manila Galleon, heading to the Philippines with its cargo of Mexican Silver, or returning with Chinese silks, Indian ivory, spices and slaves?
To find a place to dream.
I pondered the allure of precious metals. It was said that the California Gold Rush provided a huge benefit to the economy. How could the world be richer just because of gold and silver? Did it make people work harder? Did it really create more wealth?
To find a place to ponder.
The swallows glided below me round the Mountain, some hundreds of feet below.
I remembered my Balloon Ride in Egypt.
To get up high where the air is clear!
I determined which path to take home. Then the breeze kicked in. Oh my, it was glorious up here! I delayed my departure.
To get closer to heaven.
To solve problems.
For the satisfaction we get from the accomplishment of worthwhile personal goals.
[That last one snuck in there from a goal-setting course I took many years ago. It was one of the best things I ever did.]
Ahh, now I remembered!
For the VIEW, dummy!
My sweat-soaked backpack was dry. Now it really was time to head down.
I love running down this Mountain. There are spots where you just let the gravity pull you, letting your feet magically find the right place to land, then springing out again into space. You have to just let it go. Just trust in your mind and body to work it all out and enjoy the ride.
For the Joy of Running down the Mountain!
Running down the Mountain is what my life has felt like since I retired. And I haven’t hit the bottom yet!
Thanks for Running Down the Mountain with me. So glad you’re traveling along!
Here’s a great article that just popped up on the joy of running down the mountain that I thought you might enjoy:
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So good that you share your running down the mountain joy with us stumblers and fallers and all those reasons are valid.
I was relaxing with you till you started running downhill. I'm afraid I would trip and end up tumbling down the hill, but I would make it to the bottom.