Rhythm

At the center of all things physical lies the basic principle of rhythm. Obvious inclusions: seasons, tides, life, migration, sunrise/sunset, moon phases, earth’s trip around the sun and the plethora of constellations observed along the route, etc. Man in his endeavor to imitate and refine the primitive essence of nature invented the clock to create discrete labels such as second, minute and hour. He/she was then forced to craft labels for the recurring nature of successive stints of twenty-four hours, hence, our now existent days of the week. As of this writing, I remain uncertain as to why only seven such units were crafted. Perchance this number depicted the quantity of firewood which could be stored in a cave, or the number of days you wore your toga before it required washing. Perhaps, some reader’s comment will enlighten me.

On the rarest of occasions, typically defined by the label “vacation,” one turns to one’s travel partner and utters, “I’ve lost all track of time. I don’t know what day it is.” It is at this juncture that our reptilian brain has re-engaged. We strip away the man-made labels of time and react to the primitive physical cycles of our cave dwelling cousins. When the outside elements were harsh; you sought shelter. When your body required food or moisture; you went in search of satisfaction. When a potential mate wondered by, you made short grunting noises, offered food and beverage, then retreated to share the interior of your extensive real estate holdings. The approach has changed little over the past ten thousand years. A regional version is practiced here.

In Yelapa, nature’s cycles rule. We experience basically two seasons separated by a forty-five day transition period. Beginning in mid-November and continuing through mid-April, we embrace the season of Drop Dead Gorgeous. May follows and births a heat/humidity transition period dragging us into mid-June. Once there, we are launched into raging humidity, monsoonal rains, and oppressive temperatures. This is the season we refer to as The Great Oppression. Locals honker down, x-pats get the hell out of Dodge (Yelapa).

As I write this piece, I am engulfed by the unnatural rhythms of an chop-saw grinding its way through one inch square pieces of metal. The tool accelerates to a high pitch, decreases rapidly as it encounters resistance, nearly dies only to re-accelerate at the final instant. This is not one of nature’s cycles; it belongs to man. Alas, it is silent once more. Perhaps, my fellow reptiles have ambled off to seek satisfaction of the physical rhythms of sustenance, moisture or to make short grunting noises.

Yelapa Kayak Rentals

We are ready to meet your kayaking needs. Hourly, daily, and weekly rates available. There is also used equipment for sale. Right equipment, right price, right on the playita (little beach) under the giant fig tree. Contact Memo @ 322 146 5064 or yelapakayakrentals@gmail.com Happy Paddling!!!