Autumn in the Caribbean

The sunset last night was in a new place.  It is autumn in the Caribbean and although the changes are not as dramatic as in the Northeastern U. S. where I grew up, there are changes.  Like the sun changing it’s transect.  It has a different quality now.  Just like the sea.  I am not sure what it is exactly, but it is different.  The color is a little more blue in the sea.  The sun is a little more contained in the evening as it sets.  The sun and the sea interact differently too.  The sun plays more on the blue, sparkling more brightly somehow.  The temperature is not Africa hot, although it is hot.  The nights are cooler.  It is fall in Tulum.

We have more rain in the autumn.  Generally, tropical storms that blow in with the force of a gale and pass quickly.  Lately we have had electric storms that are incredibly energetic and dynamic to watch.  They pass quickly and the energy they possess is intoxicating. 

Fewer people are here.  When I was a tourist I liked that and now that I live here, I still do.  I relish the empty beach especially on the days of absolute calm where the blue water is like one gigantic swimming pool.  You can see the manta rays from far away.  The turtles hatch in this season too.  One night after a temazcal there were literally hundreds scurrying in the sand as we sat and drank our tea.  Volunteers with flashlights came from nowhere to help them find their way to the sea.  One stopped to show our group the palm sized baby pushing his fins to move forward.  The story of the turtles is inspirational, how the mothers lay their eggs on the beach in nearly the same place every year and then leave them to hatch and the new babies to make their way alone against predators and the force of the sea. Somehow, I find great comfort in the fact that many survive.

A part of me is always sad to see the fall come.  Witnessing it gives me a premature nostalgia for the year that is passing too rapidly.  I also begin to fear the holiday season with its rush and commercialism and the tourists, friends and relatives that are sure to descend like the sun.  So last night I held onto the sunset and took the time to watch until the very last bit of red left the horizon.  As it descended deeper I looked out from my rooftop perch to see the sun’s pink reflection in the sea.  One more beautiful day in Tulum.  One day closer to the high season.  I was thankful I could witness this season of the low.