I am not going to go into they whys and wherefores of our decision to leave Pirate Camp, and Culebra at this point, partly because I have not finished processing our departure from the beautiful teeny island that was our home for a year.
Writing often helps me find clarity but, on this occasion, after sitting at my keyboard for a good 45 minutes, I have written nothing that I would wish to share publicly. So I shan’t. And, for now, you shall have to wonder.
It’s nothing so heavy, mainly rain, rain and heat.
And a little boy who wanted to live in a house again.
And the need for more playtime together.
And the feeling that we were kind of outsiders, and that we needed more than that.
Drenched from a 3-day torrential downpour, we packed hurriedly, spent one final (for now) night in the Soulpad in damp beds (no leaks in the tent, just damp, condensed moisture in the air), and left the next morning on the first ferry.
As Justin pulled our car up the ramp: dogs, cats, bin-liners full of damp cloth, clothes and toys; our suitcases, and some food all rammed into the back seats and trunk, I walked onto the ferry with the hand of a small child in each of my own, and tears suddenly stung my eyes.
We sat – the four of us the only passengers on deck, as it was damp and still a tad yucky – holding hands for the entire journey, excited, nostalgic, looking forward together. The sweetness of a completely new, uncharted, unforeseen and unknowable chapter unfolding as we headed on…
It was entirely based on gut instinct, intuition and gravitational pull that we chose to drive to Rincon, in western Puerto Rico.
And here we are.
Landing was bumpy. Straight out of the woods and a rainstorm, into a concrete, itty-bitty, nondescript, suburban style blah of a house, in a small housing development behind a supermarket.
And running water!
And a stove!
And the supermarket sells organic food!
And gluten-free products!
And we are down the road from a fabulous Farmers’ Market, where we have already met some wonderful people, made some goaty contacts, bought bags of deliciousness, talked gardens, essential oils, manure and homeschooling.
We have rented this house for a month and have several places to look at this week and next.
We will be headed back to Culebra over the next week or so to finish closing down the remainder of camp, make some proper farewells, and to decide what to do with the ducks, who are currently still on the property, fed and watered.
If we find the right place, I would like to bring them. But Elizabeth is our foster duck, so we will have to ask her mum what she wants us to do.
It feels like the forces of nature and of our own natures are working with us.
It feels good.
Both shockingly different, and not different at all – still just us, being us. It’s good.
And still beautiful. We are surrounded by varied beaches, forest, tropical lushness, waterfalls, horseback riding, surfing. Inventuresploring opportunities abound.
And the play goes on.
This evening, at significant o’clock past bedtime, I overheard Ziggy say to Justin: ‘Come on Daddy, you have to come and do this, the main reason we needed a house is so I can practice my mad ninja skills and not get my hands dirty’.
Pirate Ninjas are in the hood – watch out Rincon.
We come in peace.