Sound (of) Waves

We’re home.  My house is eerily silent when compared to our Sayulita villa.  The beach below was relentlessly besieged by Pacific swell, and the sound waves barreled upwards across the amphitheater-shaped hill through our bedroom windows: the ocean’s audio fireworks.  I think I felt them, too.

In between the booms, our ceiling geckos chirped warnings to their neighbors, or celebrations about an insect catch, beginning in the evenings and throughout the night. By the second night, I had adjusted to sleeping in the raucous symphony.  I imagine what it might be like by late summer, when the evening storms join the band, with an electric light show.

Sleeping hasn’t been as easy since we came home. I think I miss the roars and booms and chirps, that connection that often gets severed back home in colder weather.  For now I’ll sift through pictures while replaying the soundtrack in my head.

We fished, surfed and beach-bummed Sayulita, explored its town, and were intrigued by jungle wildlife (more to come on all of that), but the impression left by its noises might be hardest to forget.

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