Espiritu Santo Island Complex
Daylight savings time has not yet been declared here in Mexico. But even without the artificial assistance, morning arrives quite early. Although we rise each day according to the clock, today seemed brighter. By 0600 the stars had all been washed from the sky and only the planets shone. Springtime is marching closer and the days are growing longer.
Watching the day begin, one can become an artist freely wielding an imaginary brush. Select a color of baby blue and draw a line across the canvas to represent the horizon, the union of sea and sky. Above, smudge pinks and grays together in ever fading shades until they merge with the dark of night that still hangs in the western sky. Below choose a deep dark blue speckled with cobalt for motion. For fun, add the sun, a linear orange sliver as it was this morning.
Los Islotes stands alone off the northern coast of Isla Partida, its eroded rocky form resembling a red brick cathedral. From its flanks the choir sang somewhat off key. Actually the sound was more like a high pitched howling with bass barks adding a percussive beat. California sea lions draped rocky prominences, their bodies pliable and readily molded to fit any natural crack or crevice. The older, wiser of the crowd peered down from on high like judges scoring our swimming style. But the youngsters, the pups from a year ago and possibly older siblings leapt into the water, splashing and frolicking showing how it should be done. Boobies, blue-footed and brown, seated in the higher bleachers simply turned their backs to the fun or soared away in search of prey.
The promise of a desert walk and a kayaking opportunity drew us to the southern end of this intriguing island complex. Bahia Bonanza stretches almost as far as the eye can see, its sandy shores crying out with the promise of solitude. Here could be found only the tracks of wildlife until we blended them with those of man. Hidden behind a sandy berm the desert world flourishes. Cardon cacti dominate the flats like the tallest trees in a forest but they are not alone for like in a tropical jungle, diversity dominates. White barked Palo Blanco seem so lush and green as do the linear leathery leaves of the strange tree Palo San Juan. In contrast many others were leafless now, their bare twigs more like a woodland in a northern winter. A shrub layer too persists, at times heavily adorned with the finery of the twining vines of wild cucumber. The curving arms of devil’s claw hid ready to entrap a passing sandal. Our paths led us in a myriad of directions until the sun seemed about to perch on the mountain ridge, and like birds returning to the roost at night we returned to our home away from home.
Daylight savings time has not yet been declared here in Mexico. But even without the artificial assistance, morning arrives quite early. Although we rise each day according to the clock, today seemed brighter. By 0600 the stars had all been washed from the sky and only the planets shone. Springtime is marching closer and the days are growing longer.
Watching the day begin, one can become an artist freely wielding an imaginary brush. Select a color of baby blue and draw a line across the canvas to represent the horizon, the union of sea and sky. Above, smudge pinks and grays together in ever fading shades until they merge with the dark of night that still hangs in the western sky. Below choose a deep dark blue speckled with cobalt for motion. For fun, add the sun, a linear orange sliver as it was this morning.
Los Islotes stands alone off the northern coast of Isla Partida, its eroded rocky form resembling a red brick cathedral. From its flanks the choir sang somewhat off key. Actually the sound was more like a high pitched howling with bass barks adding a percussive beat. California sea lions draped rocky prominences, their bodies pliable and readily molded to fit any natural crack or crevice. The older, wiser of the crowd peered down from on high like judges scoring our swimming style. But the youngsters, the pups from a year ago and possibly older siblings leapt into the water, splashing and frolicking showing how it should be done. Boobies, blue-footed and brown, seated in the higher bleachers simply turned their backs to the fun or soared away in search of prey.
The promise of a desert walk and a kayaking opportunity drew us to the southern end of this intriguing island complex. Bahia Bonanza stretches almost as far as the eye can see, its sandy shores crying out with the promise of solitude. Here could be found only the tracks of wildlife until we blended them with those of man. Hidden behind a sandy berm the desert world flourishes. Cardon cacti dominate the flats like the tallest trees in a forest but they are not alone for like in a tropical jungle, diversity dominates. White barked Palo Blanco seem so lush and green as do the linear leathery leaves of the strange tree Palo San Juan. In contrast many others were leafless now, their bare twigs more like a woodland in a northern winter. A shrub layer too persists, at times heavily adorned with the finery of the twining vines of wild cucumber. The curving arms of devil’s claw hid ready to entrap a passing sandal. Our paths led us in a myriad of directions until the sun seemed about to perch on the mountain ridge, and like birds returning to the roost at night we returned to our home away from home.
