Nosara, Yoga haven of the world. I had no idea such a spot existed and here in Costa Rica. Nosara is a small town, no large super markets, traffic or hotels. A small town feel with great aspirations, it is slowly becoming an American draw, but for now, clings to the allure of local charm. A lot of vegetation, one main street and the largest selling point, it has an organic store.
As yet another spontaneous land hunt trip, I had no idea where Nosara was and yet into the car we went and down south we headed. It is about 2 hours from the house, and the trip is again full of interest things. Speed bumps a big as your car, iguanas that have suicidal tendencies (they wait till the last minute, when you madly swerve to miss them before they scurry off) and a possible Mel Gibson ranch sighting. I liked the place, very health conscience with a great beach.
Again the search for Finca land began and we visited numerous sites looking for perfect pasture and abundant water. There was a point where we drove out to this parcel of land where the road was so steep that the truck we were following kept sliding backwards, and finally had to park before it slide back the way it came. The trail along the rented land was a foot path mostly made by cattle that had been there before. Not prepared to go hiking, Natalie and I had flip flops on, while Titus, future farmer, was wearing boots. Still troopers, we followed behind our guides, stepping over branches and tried not to slip down dirt slippery declines. As we marched along in the hot afternoon sun, being there, following that dirt trail, I had a flash from my childhood. . . .
Hiking the trails in the mountains where I grew up, I remember wondering what had made them. These strange trails that really led no where and began somewhere I never knew. I'd imagine deer, or mountain lions, even the occasional exotic camel, but I never really knew for sure. They just seemed to exist and never end. I don't remember ever finding an ending to any of the paths I followed.
The memory brought a smile, seeing how far I'd come since then. Now trekking those same animal created paths in flip flops, huffing and panting like the cows that had made them, sweating like any tourist. Yet, suffering the comfortableness of being without the proper footwear, athletic body shape and endurance, I enjoyed it. Climbing in those hills, seeing amazing scenery, and learning what little I could from the Spanish I could understand, I thought I was still that same child. Still fascinated by what God has created, still playing with the unknown, filling it in with my imagination, and still traveling to exotic places to find the answers. I think I've been surrounded by more awe moments of nature here then I've ever been. Going along with a potential farmer and his wife as they look for land has its benefits. There is still so much wild land here, no houses, paved roads or telephone poles. Rugged trails, barb-wired fences, and the stillness of peace from nature remains. Primitive would be a way of describing it, and yet it's not meant as a negative. There is possibility where no one has taken the time to develop, and yet changing it alters it's appeal. Finding a balance is the true skill, accepting that to have everything is to really lose touch with what is important, having nothing is truly being blessed with knowing who you really are. Spend time with yourself and you'll discover someone new. Someone who has been there the whole time, yet you've never really taken the time to get to know . . . .
Yes, childhood memories of following secret trails, looking for an end but never really finding it. It's the adventure that really holds the appeal for me, and I hope I never stop searching and believing in the fantasy that there is none . . . .
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