Feb
7
It’s 4:30 a.m.
and a hard, hard rain is keeping me awake. I am remembering a time when Mister and I were in Costa Rica during rainy season. We went with only a car reservation and a map, the latter of which, in Costa Rica, tells only a fraction of the story if you go without a destination. One night we drove on a muddy road in the blackest black and our headlights caught a blue sign for lodging, which ended up being tree houses. It rained like this, so hard that you don’t sleep, but you don’t talk either, and in the morning I looked outside and I’d never seen so many shades of green in one place.
