Living on the Outer Cape, on what seems to be the skinniest part of a
long peninsula, I can’t help but be affected by the light, the time and tides.
A super full moon can pull back the tides to the source and make you feel like
you’ve been sucked to the marrow. This is how I left Cape Cod on Christmas day - speeding to Logan airport at 5 o'clock in teh morning on my way to Nicaragua. Normally, from other trips, I have some inkling of what to expect, but this was something different. Meeting fellow travelers at what was becoming a familiar airport in Managua, we arrived in the dark after a three hour trip, one hour over a windy
dirt road that required our driver to stop on the side of a lonely road and
turn on the four wheel drive. We were led to a bungalow with flashlights and
the stars as guides and the sounds of wild winds and gentle waves surrounding
us.
Costa Dolce is luxurious in its simplicity. It is enveloped
by the not so distant hills of Costa Rica and an inlet flanked by ancient
volcanic rocks and a hidden beach nestled in the jungle our host Tyson decided
to establish his eco-retreat center.
So it was in this unknown, remote magical part of southern
Nicaragua that seeds were planted for the New Year …
Each
day began anew with the sound of waves reminding us of the constant – time and
tide. That we spent this together was divine. During the week we were
there, the group gave their service in an unusual way - accompanying kids on
botanical walks and bringing them swimming in the surf, some of them for the first
time. Sometimes I forget how difficult it is for people to have the access to
leave their neighborhood, town or village. We joke here on the Cape about getting across
the rotary, but when you don’t have the means to leave, how would these kids
ever experience the pure joy of jumping a wave? What a gift. 
More to come about this adventure friends... this is far to late posting as it is!
