Costa Rica 6, Twenty-First Day in Monteverde

Following a nap that lasted more than an hour after breafast, I wandered up to the cloud forest reserve. I did stop to visit the hummingbirds at the feeders in the Hummingbird Gallery, and to carefully conceal my snickers at all the tourists photographing them, then chatted briefly with one of the managers of the reserve, who wrote a special note approving my free entry, so that I will have something to show the guy at the ticket booth, which streamlines things somewhat, he doesn't have to phone anyone to confirm my identity, and I still feel like a bit of a cheapskate tourist, but this too will pass. The entrance to the trail was clogged by two large school groups. The first was around thirty teenage kids in school uniforms and I just looked at them, smiled and said in Spanish "¡Vaya, que manada¡", or look at that herd! They didn't seem too amused, but then the second group, which was bigger, was blocking the entire trail and I had to ask them in Spanish, "¿Me dan paso, por favor?" or, could you let me through please? They did let me through, but they weren't at all gracious about it, especially their teacher who seemed particularly offended that I should ask him and his darlings to move out of the way, even if I did ask them politely and in good Spanish. But that could be exactly what he found offensive. People! or on the other hand, he might have also been annoyed at his dumb students, so maybe I could give him the benefit of the doubt. I spent about three hours in the forest, a lot of that time sitting on benches, beholding and absorbing the glorious tangle that is the Monteverde Cloud Forest. Again I heard quetzals, but they are staying well-hidden today, and other birds. The light is especially dazzling on the leaves and the shadow effects are dramatic. At times it seems that the entire cloud forest is made out of light. But everything is so dense and growing together, one plant or vine or epiphyte or fern or orchid on top of another and it all seems to flourish together in one glorious and interdependent celebration of life and diversity. I climbed up to the Ventana, or mirador, for a view of the mountains and the continental divide between the Pacific and Atlantic coasts of Costa Rica. It is spellbinding looking upon all those hundreds of square miles of cloud forest and mountains, completely inaccessible to humans, which works fine for me, given how toxic our species is to the natural harmony of the planet. But it seems that most of us are still in denial about one very inescapable fact, which is that we are also part of nature. It wasn't too crowded today, and there weren't any more big groups, mostly pairs and small groups of friends or families. To two young women taking a selfie on the trail (they looked like they'd rather be at the mall) I couldn't resist saying, "There must be beter things to photograph here." I had a meal of vegetarian casado at the restaurant at the entrance to the cloud forest. This is a traditional Costa Rican meal that consists of beans, rice, salad, cooked vegetables (roasted peppers, eggplant snf zucchini in this case), cheese and sliced fried plantains. It can also include any kind of meat, chicken or fish. I also had with the waiter a good-natured argument in Spanish about adding more vegetarian dishes to the menu. I did see in the rorest today one first-time bird sighting of a hooded or cowled jay. They are very elegant, a bit bigger than a robin, and indigo blue plumage with light blue feathers on the head. I'm going to draw one tomorrow, methinks. All for now, Gentle Reader!