quiet night, tart juice, fast bird

A peaceful morning in my dormitorio. I shared the room last night with fave Brazilians and all five left together this morning. I woke up to a commotion typical of a youth hostel but that I am not at all use to yet. Not beginning the day with a chip on my shoulder took willpower. The Brazilians were fine nice enough, doing nothing more than packing their bags. The horde of Swedes gathered in the common space outside of my room were up too early and had too much energy than is ok for anyone to have prior to 8:00 in the morning. I threw on my flip flops and went out for air, juice, and caffiene. The Swedes with all showered and dressed, eating breakfast, running around, laughing. I with my birds nest of hair bidden them a short buenas dias as I passed without a pause.
The streets of Colonia were almost vacant this morning. At 8:30 there were none but myself, fishermen, and a few café employees sweeping the waks and cleaning up after what must have been a late night. I wouldn´t know. I was back at the hostel by 11:00. Once I realized that my roommates were ready for bed I couldn´t resist making the most of the opportune moment: a roomfull of peaceful, quiet travellers, a chance to get a good nights sleep in this raucus hostel. All for the best. Morning and evening are my favorite times to be out in Colonia. I´ll sleep at night.
My skin is especially keen to that schedule today. Yesterday morning I rented a vespa like motor scooter for the day. Everyone here rides one of these or a small motorcycle and I thought it would be a good way to explore my new surroundings. I rode all day: first though the city, then up the coast along the beach, and finally out into the countryside--the fringe of the Uruguayan pampa. As I write this my face and the tops of my arms are a flesh-toned hot pink.
The cool air coming in from the Atlantic over the Río de la Plata and into Colonia soothed my charred face and calmed the redidual clatter in my head left from the rude awakening this morning. I walked down to a little water front café that was just opening, there too the only people present held brooms. One of them took my order: un café doble y una jugo de naranja. The coffee was jet black with a rich brown head, the juice tall, tart and fresh squeezed. They must have used a dozen oranges. Excellent.
The fruit and vegetables have been on a whole much better that those in Buenos Aires. I was in need of some good veggies when I got off the boat. Sometimes I feel like all I´ve eaten in the last week is cheese, meat, and bread. Don´t get me wrong, these are three of my favorite things but I am use to a degree of balance in my diet or don´t feel right. Porteños don´t seem to have high standards when it comes to salads or veggies. Order a salad at almost any restaurant and what comes to the table is a bowl of semi-ripe tomatoes, white onion, and lettuce in about equal proportions dressed with a bit of olive oil and vinegar. Meat is the absolute center of their gastronomic world. I mentioned eating raw carrots and celery and celery to Racquel the other day and she looked at me like I was insane. Anyway, every specimen here has been excellent here. About five doors down from the hostel is a café that caters to veggetarians. They serve a lunch buffet. I gorged myself yesterday, an act of repentance to my digestive system for the piles of cheese and dough I´ve consumed this past week. It must be said however that this place, along with Buenos Aires, have more pizza joints per capita than anywhere I´ve been before. And...despite all of this veggie talk I had a pizza last night. I washed it down with a litre of Pilsen, the home brew here in Uruguay. It´s not bad but I prefer Argentina´s Quilmes. I´ll surely down one as soon as I step off the boat in Buenos Aires.
My resolution for the day: not to miss the hummingbird. I do mean this literally, but being that it is unlikely that I´ll have another chance, I resolve to play it out figuratively. "what is he talking about?" you ask. Pause for a poem.

Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new clolors
Which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you,
One part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth...

leaving you (impossibly to untangle)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star. --Rilke.

Amidst one of the most inviting and beautiful settings I have ever taken part in, I felt like stone. I´de returned my moto early and walked down to the city center by the lighthouse, on the coast, out on the cobbled 300 year old port, facing west. Flat and restless. Around me, natural beauty. In the air, the sound of the ocean clapping the rocks, keeping time for the spanish guitarist beside me. And I, fidgety, lonely, and self-critical. Moments like these, moments on the banks of the sea cast in orange and in purple are supposed to reach into you, to pull you out of yourself, wake the spirit and all that, right? Right? But as the sun began to set I was left, ¨timid and standing high and growing", but blocken in. And unconscious. I can think about it now, pepaint the pictur, but at the time I was blank and my instinct to took over. My instint for flight. I wouldn´t sit still and enjoy it and instead I ran out and ahead of myself and tried to capture it. First by trying to write, but the only words that came were conceited, cliché. Then I went out for pictures and it was here that I missed the hummingbird.
It was emerald green with flecks of ruby and ice. It squaked, which I didn´t expect. The sound was definitely not a chirp that drew my attention to the tiny bird. I believe the only other time time I´de seen one it was humming around a pea blossom in the garden when I was about 4, that memory now so old and vague that I can´t be sure if the bird was real or if if it was my imagination that I´ve come to believe to be true through the years. This green bird was surely real. And what did I do? Turned on the camera, set it to high speed "action shot" setting and atrie to take a picture. For those who haven´t seen one, hummingbirds are incredibly fast, for those who don´t know me, I am not a great photographer. I chased it and missed it.
Today I will stay out of the sun and try not to miss the hummingbirds.