Dreaming in Belize

I have discovered the best antidote for loneliness—hanging out with a bunch of Jamaicans on a sandy spit of land in the middle of nowhere. Well, not actually the middle of nowhere, but it might as well have been. Living at Thatch Cay for six nights in a one room cabin built on stilts above the ocean, going to sleep with the sound of the waves and and the wind, I felt like I was far, far away from anything cold or sad or unhappy. Civil war in Libya, endless conflict in Afghanistan, nuclear meltdown in Japan all in the distance, maybe not even possible.

In the morning I woke up with the sun and watched it rise slowly out of the ocean. I spent the days on the water, fishing or snorkeling. I could lay in the hammock on my veranda and be mesmerized by the blue of the ocean or watch frigate birds and and pelicans make patterns overhead. Out there somewhere on the horizon were other sandy bits of land, an alternative universe certainly to city life but even island life as I have experienced it in Jamaica. In the evening, I drank and talked and laughed feeling relaxed and free and wonderfully tired. Then, flashlight in hand, I walked back to my cabin under a canopy of endless stars, falling instantly asleep.