After a day of trekking, the desire to retire to my plastic table with an Imperial beer was strong. Distant flashes of storm activity loomed on the horizon, and I had difficulty estimating the direction the thunderstorm was heading. Leaves rustled forcefully as gusts passed through, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like on the coast right now. I said farewell to my travel buddy for the time being, and equipped my headlamp to make a drive out to the beach.
Every little crab animal was out wandering the shores. I could see larger sea crabs flitting back into their sandy caves as I walked past, ones in the distance still and suspicious of the artificial light passing through. Every intact seashell had feet, there was a mass hermit crab march towards inland greens. I walked through, cautious to not get my foot stabbed by walking little seashells, the smooth sand broken by cool splashes of the ocean water, the horizon was purple and distant flashes broke through the billowing clouds. Deep yet distant booms broke through, the sound wave so twisted and broken up it hardly resembled the hard crack of lightning a closer storm would provide. There was nobody on the shore, a few people still imbibing at the Hotel Playa Negra, and it was all my own to sit and enjoy.