Tonight I watched the blue sky to the East reflect back the pastel pink of the setting sun to the West. The clouds drifting above me in puffs holding into their whiteness, gave depth to the coming of night . I watched the sky over the turquoise of the the Caribbean ocean as small white birds flew in a group before lighting on the water’s surface. Night comes to this small cove where Jashita  rests, my home for the past few days.

Tonight, after the sun has set and the Eastern sky has changed from its multi layers of pastel pink and blue to the darkness of night, I meet for the second time, one of the hosts and owners of this tiny resort hotel. He stops with evenings greetings and adds to my night another glass of Prosecco that he opens special for me. Another color from the one I have been drinking. Delicate pink, like the sky beyond the clouds. Dry, he adds. The taste is lightness in the night. The candles surrounding me bring presence to the room and it’s thatched roof. He speaks with an accent, I ask which country he comes from. Italy, he replies. The family of Jashita is from Italy, near Venice. I rethink my experiences of the past few days here. Italy, Italian hosts make the connections of this experience to others in my life. The beauty, detail, combined with love of life, with casualness, is Italian. The place, Mexico, is warmth for mind and body.

 

I settle back for steamed, fresh mussels to arrive at my table. Candles flicker. Warm scents fill the air, a fire burns between me, the lit swimming pool and the cabana at the edge of the ocean. Their family gathers for dinner. Salt, paper and olive oil is set at the table, along with the glasses for Prosecco and wine. In a way , I am home, in another I am still in a foreign country. Night flickers at the base of the Buddha in the entry hall. All things seem possible .