Watch and See

Blog19:

From where I sat, I could not help but notice likeminded people who have come to these laidback grounds of pampering.  From wherever folks came, and for what purpose are beside the point.  From all walks of life, male and female, group or individual, fact is that people have come to this corner of the world to be masterfully pleased, though not promising to all behave as expected or be pleasant.

At this restaurant by the ocean side, a culture of service available to satisfy and even exceed expectations, needs and wants of all who visit to sample tastes of the morning, is already visible.  Supervisor and Wait Staff are already acting on energies directed to pleasing receivers of their pleasant smiles, attention and service.  I, particularly, have taken early mouth pleasures from the freshly-baked breads and smells of freshly-brewed coffee – compliments of Paco and his friendly peers serving folks like me this young time of morning.

“Busybodies, early birds of the kitchen,” I inwardly and cheerfully murmured.

Shortly my nosy nose and chosen leisure of the moment, people watching, began.

There sat across from me a couple showing generous affection for each other while waiting for ordered fill for the morning.  It’s part of the pampering to which I alluded.  The woman sips from her glass of exotic juice, compliments of the Pelican Kitchen Staff.  Her companion holds on to her free hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses it.  She dons a perfect smile, and kisses his hand back.

“Lovebirds,” I decided.

To the left table, across from the lovebirds, sat a young man … could be in his 30s.  He sported a pair of red-rimmed sunglasses matching his beach swim pants.  He had a distant look that I could see from the corner of his eye.  What could he be seriously thinking so early on? Everyone else in the place seems to be in the presence of pleasant company and carrying on some conversation between forks, spoons, knives staking for the next bite.  He kept looking at his Smart phone – for time? He searches for a contact number and pushes the send button.  He holds the phone for a sec or two to his right ear.  There mustn’t have been anyone at the line he rang.  He heaves a frustrated sigh.  He picks up his coffee cup and drinks quickly from it all that was there.  He pushes his chair back, gets up, and that was that. 

“Stood up?”  I wondered.  “An unpleasant encounter would follow that,” I predicted.

I leisurely enjoyed my Crepe and cottage cheese between sips of Verde Mix juice – quite a refreshing blend of celery, spinach and orange juice.  That, I concluded, was a perfect kick-off to my lazy morning start.  I’ve got to keep an eye on creative juices that Mickey and I have been sampling here.  We could use them to pep up our mornings soon as we head out to the grind.

Off to a walk on the beach after that sumptuous breakfast.  I scaled the breadth and height of the fresh, young sky.  The morning sun had just broken into the slushy, feathery clouds.  Some puffy ones have also formed.  I told myself, “This is going to be a wonderful start of day.”  Left foot, and then right, in a progressive, undetermined direction, my feet leave distinctive prints on the sand as I walked.  I had been enjoying this calm, innocent walk, when I noticed three bodies lying on the sand.  Both the woman and her two companions were still unmoved by activities already taking place around.  They were sound asleep. 

“Beach crashers or alcohol bingers?”  That was an unkind judgment.   

From not so distant space, two beach combers were already at hard work.  They have collected a pile of seaweed and ocean debris.  Assisted only by a rake and cane-like tool with pointed steel underneath it, they have gathered unsightly and pesky finds of the waves.  They must have been at the site for a good hour now.  I noticed their shirts were already soaking from sweat.

“Dignified men of labor,” I declared.

Walk down the beach another quarter of a mile, I did.  My attention turned to the walls that bar the resorts from the open ocean and the waves beginning to rage.  Murals of cultural touch dressed what would have been bare boring walls.  A plethora of political, cultural, economic expressions of art brought daunting, interesting, scary, statements.  Who could have painted the walls?  What were their thoughts?

“Fanatics … artists … anti-establishmentarians?”  I let the thoughts linger.

I head back from where I started this morning walk.  There are more risers now… early risers from what should have been extended snoozes in beds of rest.  Joggers, walkers, sightseers, thinkers, readers, swimmers, meditators, sellers, people-watchers, like I have taken on today- many have begun waking, walking or dancing the dance desired.   

Farther ahead in my little walk by the Caribbean Ocean, a small company of three women and two men already were unpacking their select drinks.  I looked at my watch.  It registered 8:13.   I just remembered that on the way out from my room, mickey and I spotted beer on hand by one of our resort neighbors.  That was a bit past 7AM.

“Spirit loaders!”  That name-calling wasn’t the good spirit you and I may have approved.

Desire of the mind, freedom of thought … such can take us privately or publicly in the lives of those we meet and with whom we share spaces.  I and a host of transient transplants for a week or so in this playground have the pleasure to reflect on our presences, our motives, our voiced opinions or observations that open a view into the kind of persons we might be, and what others may seem to us in passing.    We get up and get going.  We start maneuvering … navigating a wheel of destination each time we wake and make a step.   Ahead of us preempts an event that unfolds admiration, affection, disappointment, labor, surprise.
What does your look, your action, your words say to someone, and do you care?