Sorry mate, the Jesus guy got the toast

COSTA RICA – The reporter in me is constantly challenged by Twitter’s 140-character format. I feel like a limbo dancer as  the pole gets lower and lower.

How much can be said in so few words? For example: can you write a travelog in fewer words than appear on a jar of marmalade?

Let’s give it a try.

During my visit to Costa Rica,I posted daily tweets that attempted to distill the essence of what excites and delights me here.

Three examples:

MANUEL ANTONIO, Costa Rica – There is no energy to the surf today. The waves unfold gently, deferentially.  Horses walk the tideline.

MANUEL ANTONIO, Costa Rica – The tropical jungle has its own way. Trees walk. White-faced capuchin, a leap away, show you their teeth.

MANUEL ANTONIO – Fallen blossoms float on the pool. An iguana circles the perimeter. From the hillside, the chilling roar of howler monkeys

Okay, you be the judge. Travelog or twitter trash?

Unrestrained by the  140-character limit, I sent a postcard to a friend:

I am having breakfast with a Jesus Christ lizard – the one that can walk on water. It  is 10-feet away trying to choke down a piece of toast. I consider this a good omen for my next novel.

The hotel cafe/bar is just behind the beach.  I can here sit here half the day and watch the surf roll in.  Sometimes, in the hills behind you can hear howler monkeys, which bark and scream in unison like football fans.  I don’t know what it does to their enemies  but it  scares the hell out of me.

The two-toed sloth is even slower and  lazier than I am – there was one in a tree in the parking lot yesterday,  you don’t have to venture far to see the wildlife here.  Apparently sloths only stir themselves once a week when they climb down from their tree, have a poop, and climb back up again.

Memo to self: achieve more.

Oops, now an iguana, two-feet long has arrived. Sorry mate, you’re too late, the Jesus guy got the toast. It wolfs down a big yellow seed from some plant or other. It is at my feet and keeps a wary eye on me. I may say the feeling is mutual.

Costa Rice is a zoo. There was a tropical downpour the other night and in the morning  while the ground was soaked, Halloween crabs, which are  red and yellow with huge blue pincers,  emerged from their burrows. Flooded out, I suppose.

In Manuel Antonio State Park, butterflies the size of dinner plates flash wings of iridescent blue. For some reason they follow the trails like tourists. Trees walk. Nothing is ordinary here.

I could go on, but I am feeling particularly slothful today.


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