36 hours

Some things we’ve seen in the last 36 hours: 

A man and woman on a motorcycle with a small child between them cruising down the panamerican highway, all three bungeed together at the waist.

The pristine beach of San Agostonillo, on which for lunch we had the freshest fish possible filleted outside after we ordered.

A clown juggling fire at the stoplight.

An older woman in a huipile selling a restaurateur 100 limes for 60 pesos. She emptied them out of her mesh bag and into a large bowl a girl brought out from the kitchen.

Chris’s shorn chin for the first time in at least a year. He came out clean shaven, with sunglasses on and a hat. It was like he was incognito.

A turtle hatchery in Mazunte. Turtles aren’t winning at natural selection because they’re good looking. They’re ugly but in a kind of cool way when you’re looking at one that is unbelievably enormous.

A foal grazing in the meadow by our house.

An alley that ended in the ocean filled with boats rather than cars.

A takeout delivery boy holding the meal in one hand, navigating his motorcycle up an unpaved and steep hill with the other hand—in the rain.

The end of a book that captivated me these last few days and that everyone should read: The Hummingbird’s Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea.

An electrical storm that lit the night sky like the sun and bellowed and raged for hours.

Enough things to know that we’ll see more things tomorrow.