Adventures in Costa Rica

1. Esme’s story

2. For many years, she had wandered the mountain sides,
searching along the beaches, some ancient, some distant from
the sea.
Spirals, she thought, everything spirals.
They never missed her in the morning. Reaching the beach
before dawn a swim was her intent but the wind was picking up
and the surf was flat. Her eyes wander to the south.
What lay beyond those overhanging cliffs, she wondered?
Moving down the beach, jagged rock fingers emerged
increasingly from the sea, sheltered and emboldened
pelicans, herons. anhinga, egrets and oyster catchers
increased in number and were no longer fleeing in fear.
As she approached the dark cold hand of the cliffs, the
rocks underfoot pushed upward in a jumbled scatter. It
became difficult to read the surface, often slippery, always
hard to foot.
She began to question if she really wanted this wildness
closing in on her.
Yet she was drawn powerfully, curiously to the morning
light streaming around the western edge of the headland
before her. Peering beyond, she was blinded for a moment
but managed to stumble forward. As she spun, dizzy and
disoriented, soft sand caressed her feet and the world
transformed before her eyes. It was as if a giant hand was
softly cupping her, drawing her to its center.
Esme’s story
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3. Could this be real?
Sheer rock gave way to green canopy rising high to baby
blue sky. Pink sands spread forward, diving beneath a
turquoise sea. Naked, new, exposed, enveloped, lost, found,
her mind was racing as she wandered toward the waters
edge. At her feet lay two giant shells,. In her hands they
were very smooth, worn, ground by waves of rocks and
sand and they were very heavy, very dense and almost too
big to carry. She placed them carefully near the edge,
Should she dive?
Oh how she wanted to… just let go, wildly abandon.
Suddenly a calming voice within: test carefully, step lightly.
With her second step the sand gave way. Undertow! Pulling
back quickly, she shifted to a siting position and dangled
her leg down toward the deep. She sat like this for a very
long time. No barriers, no limits, at one, at peace with the
cove draped upon her shoulders, with the warm water
dissolving any sense of separation from the sea.
They would be wondering where she was….. way too much time
for a morning swim. They would start worrying.
Turning and as she rose, lifting the heavy shells toward the
jungle that rose before her to the sky. She marveled at how
smooth these worn travelers were and how perfectly they
partnered with the palms of her hands. Companions now,
she would study them, she would give them a home.
How should she return?
Shuddering at the thought of returning back by way of the
rocky cliffs (which might not even be possible with the
rising tide), her heart sank as she turned her back on this
special place and headed south, hoping to find open
beaches and a path that would take her first east, then
north around the mountainous headland and home.
mole, mole or
bailer shell’s
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4. Resolve
Skirting the southern limit of the cove and moving now in
to full, bright sunlight, she confronted a landscape of
repeated sharp rock passages between wind beaten shoals.
Searching the cliffs revealed no trails, only a narrow, steep
sided green gorge winding into the heart of the headland.
There were dark pools, remnants of the swift running creek
soon to rise again. Climbing up to the higher reaches by this
route could be dangerous but it offered a short cut to trails
above, cutting the return time in half.
The gain was worth the risk. She must prepare.
Searching and sorting carefully, she found a wonderful staff
and several tangled and knotted ropes. Working with the
ropes, she created a bola. Now she was ready. The vines and
cacti that blocked her passage were easy to push aside with
the staff. The mass of beetles around the first black pool
were behind her with a single leap. She move steadily up
the creek bed. The bola was handy as a climbing tool .
Looping it over fallen tree’s, roots and branches she pulled
herself up and forward. The sunlit rim began peeking
through the 100ft of the tangle of trees, tree roots and
vines above her.
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5. Progress
She was hoping she could get much closer to the rim. If she
was really luck, she might be able to follow the creek clear
to the top.
Danger
Rounding a blind bend in the creek, she caught site of it. A
giant sparkling web covered the entire width of the canyon.
The canyon was narrow at this point but at least 10 or 12’
from rock cliff to cliff. There was a single spider about the
size of big sand dollar in the center of the web, about 4’
below a low hanging branch.
Impassable
A couple of swipes with the staff would take it all down but
as she move to do so, three more spiders jumped into place
on the web. She swung to her right, creating, as she moved,
a pouch for the bulky shells by rolling the bottom of her t-
shirt upward and binding the pouch at top and bottom by
winding the bola around her waist. This freed her hands
(she would need everything she had) and began a rapid but
deliberate diagonal ascent of the south rim. The way was
very steep and composed of dry dirt and rock. The surface
was covered with loose scree. It was a matter of clinging to
precarious balance while moving from tree trunk, to vine to
tree trunk … often digging fingernails into the earth,
between the rocks and sometimes lunging forward to the
next foot hold, slow, slow, painful upward going.
A Trail
Finally a trail soft to foot, open, warm and inviting. She felt
so luck to be alive. As the trail wound slowly upward and
curled around the mountain side, a Great Tailed Grackle
continued with a conversation that had started as she was
drawing close to the rim. She talked back as best she could ,
reflecting the sounds that came at her and responding to
what came back in return. Kind of clueless but friendly was
probably how the the Great Tail would understand her
replies.
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6. Surprise
What was the message? Something was up. As the trail
curled downward it made a sharp twist to the right, she
froze. A pool of light revealed a startling sight, long black
feathers were scattered in a spiraling circular pattern,
covering the entire clearing. Some wings were intact but
no carcass, no bones.
She circled the site slowly, looking up
This was new territory, new territory altogether. She
scooped a few feathers tucked them in her bola belt and
moved on. She notice the Great Blue was gone. So that
was the message, move on. The path split and even
though the western branch would be the way down,
turning west the trail opened up and flooded with bright
light, it was a diversion but possibly the top of the cliffs
and a view! Then, there it was an open view down the
long beautiful beach. Surprised at the relief she felt and
shocked by her desire to get back amongst the many
strangers she could see in the distance, she turned back
and headed down toward the beach. There was a woven
black rope harness with a heavy cloak chain lying on the
western path. She draped it around her shoulders. You
never know, she thought.
80% or the birds killed in these forests are killed by snakes. 5

7. Soon she would be home.
The light had turned the corner of the cape and was flooding
through the forest as path turned to broad path turned to
road. Long strides, wild life on all sides and above…… the
canopy and the blue, blue sky, she breathed deeply, relaxing
as she moved.
Nothing could stop her now!
As the path continued to circle around the hill side, the lush
green forest grew more dense. She could see a bigger road
below her. At their connection was a very imposing swinging
gate and a taught, 7’ barb wire fence. Her first response was to
search along the fence for culverts that would allow her to go
under the barbed wire. More spiders along the fences was all
she found. She slipped the shells through gap under the gate
along with her staff, which had to snake its way. She used her
ropes to pull down the barbed wire at the top of the gate, just
enough, to slip over. She could see the entrance of the trail to
the beach about 100 yards down the road. As she glanced
back she saw dog warning signs on the front of the gate. Most
often such signs on remote private property were just for
show, she thought. A bluff. Good thing. Luck was with her.
.
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8. Release
She would be back in time. Everyone would be relieved..
She had two gifts. It would be important to watch
carefully to understand where they belonged.
Resolve
There would be a lot of study and thought needed to fully
comprehend where she had been and all that it would
mean to her, change her. She became determined to write
about this journey, to share her notes and thoughts.
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9. Notes and Thoughts
Creatures seen, hidden and left behind
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10. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8gCNXhVvnA
Melo melo - Bailer shells
Melo melo, common name the Indian volute or bailer shell, is a
very large sea snail, a marine gastropod mollusc in the family
Volutidae, the volutes. Melo melo is known to be carnivorous, as
laboratory experiments have shown. It is a specialized predator of
other continental shelf predatory gastropods, notably Hemifusus
tuba (Melongenidae) and Babylonia lutosa (Buccinidae).It is also a
known predator of the dog conch, Strombus canarium
(Strombidae).This volute is known to produce pearls; however the
Melo melo pearl has no nacre, unlike the pearl of a pearl oyster.
The GIA and CIBJO now simply use the term 'pearl' (or, where
appropriate, the more descriptive term 'non-nacreous pearl') when
referring to such items, rather than the previously-used term
'calcareous concretion' and, under Federal Trade Commission
rules, various mollusc pearls may be referred to as 'pearls' without
any qualification. The melo pearl is created by the mollusc in the
same way as other pearls are created by other molluscs.
https://www.shutterstock.com/video/clip-18434869-bailer-shell-walking-on-sand-melo-hd
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melo_melo
The world’s rarest and most precious pearls do not come from
oysters, but instead from very large sea snails of the species
Melo melo. Prices range from $25,000 to $250, 000 each.
Melo melo Pearls
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11. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Great-tailed_Grackle/media-browser/516796
https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Great-tailed_Grackle/overview
Great-tailed Grackle
This large, noisy bird has become amazingly adapted to living
with people. A scavenger and opportunist of beaches, riversides,
and wetlands, urban environments apparently mimic these open
habitats because Great-tailed Grackles seem to be right at home
as they forage on city streets, pick at garbage, and sing crazy
songs from trees in a busy park. A large, black bird with a long,
wedge-shaped tail seen when birding Costa Rica will be the male of
this common species.
http://birdingcraft.com/wordpress/2010/06/15/four-common-black-birds-of-costa-rica/
Beautiful Black Vultures
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12. The Golden Silk Orb-weavers
(Nephila) are a genus of araneomorph spiders noted for the
impressive webs they weave. Nephila consists of numerous species
found in warmer regions around the world. They are also commonly
called golden orb-weavers, giant wood spiders, or banana spiders.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_silk_orb-weaver
P. poecilonotus is commonly known in Trinidad and Tobago as dos
cocorite, in Brazil as papa-ovo, and in English as the puffing snake
or the bird snake. Responsible for 80% of the birds killed in
isolated forest areas.
Puffing Snake
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phrynonax_poecilonotus
https://www.conservationmagazine.org/2015/02/bird-eating-snakes-ravage-nests-in-forest-reserve/
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Female Great Tail Grackle

13. the end