Good Morning Costa Rica

Photo Credit: Ana Karla Parra

“We do not understand nature with our eyes, but with our understandings and our hearts.” ~ William Hazlitt

This week’s musings is inspired by my recent trip to Costa Rica. The idea for this grandma story came to me one morning when I was sitting by the pool listening to the racquet that the creatures of the jungle were making. The grandchild in this little piece of fiction is much older than the two grandbabies that were in Costa Rica with me, but younger than my oldest grandchild, who I haven’t seen in many years. My love for all my grandchildren is the fuel behind my words. I hope, dear reader, that you feel present to the love, and to the message.

A terrifying sound like nothing I’ve ever heard before screeched through the darkness, startling me awake. For a minute, I forgot where I was. I started walking in the direction of my parents’ bedroom, then stopped in the dimly lit hallway as I remembered I was in Costa Rica. Excitement crept through my veins and my heart lit up with joy. I turned around and found my way to grandma and grandpa’s room. I could hear grandma snoring from the doorway, but then that same terrifying howl rattled in the distance somewhere and I sprang onto their bed.

            “Grandma, wake up!” I cried out. “I think there’s a Banshee outside!”

            “Whatever are you talking about, dear child?” Grandma said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes while reaching for her eyeglasses on the nightstand. “You know there’s no such thing as Banshees. What you heard was a Howler monkey.”

            Grandma stopped talking to adjust her glasses properly and looked at me.

            “Come on then, give your ole’ grandma a hug,” Grandma said. She rubbed my back while she talked and I snuggled up closer to her squishy, soft chest. I felt a little better.

“You know, just because it isn’t a Banshee prowling around doesn’t mean that Howler monkey wasn’t scary,” Grandma said. “Do you still feel frightened?”

            “No,” I said. “But that was one of the spookiest sounds I ever heard. Are Howler’s huge and hairy, like the gorillas at the Zoo?”

            “I’ve never seen a Howler up close,” Grandma admitted. “They’re shy creatures. But no, they aren’t huge. Maybe around fifteen to twenty pounds.”

“How big is that?” I asked.

“About the size of a six-month-old baby,” Grandma said. She rubbed my back some more, making little circles, and I could feel myself relaxing.

“Howlers have smooth, dark faces like gorillas,” Grandma continued. “They have a mantle of brown hair framing their face and covering the rest of their body, but their hands and feet are smooth and look almost human. If I recall from photos I’ve seen, it looks like they’re wearing black nail polish.”

            “Can we paint my nails black?” I asked.

            “Sure, if your parents agree and we can find some at the store,” Grandma said. “I surely didn’t pack any nail polish.”

            “That’s ‘cause you go to the nail salon to get yours done,” I said. “But please, tell me more about those Howler monkeys.”

            “Well, I don’t know a lot more,” Grandma said. She scratched her head and rolled her eyes up to stare at the ceiling, which was getting lighter and lighter each minute as the sun rose. “I seem to recall reading somewhere that the guttural roar we heard can carry up to five kilometers.”

            “How far is that?” I wondered out loud.

            “About as far as my house to the Winnipeg Zoo,” Grandma said.

            “Wow!” I said. “That’s far!”

            “Uh huh,” Grandma said. “Also, Howlers are slow movers like sloths. And they eat all day like koalas. It’s definitely their howl that makes them unique from all other primates.”

            Just then a different loud screech erupted from above the ceiling over our heads.

“What was that?” I yelled, burrowing my head in the wrinkly folds of Grandma’s neck.

“That was a Scarlet macaw,” Grandma said, hugging me close. “We saw four of them yesterday out on the grassy boulevard by the golf course. Don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember,” I said, lifting my head to look in her eyes. “Their feathers were so beautiful! But they didn’t squawk like that!”

“That’s how nature is everywhere I’ve travelled,” Grandma laughed. “All the birds and animals like to make a big fuss about the sunrise and sunset, every day. Even though it happens every day, they act like it’s something special. That’s because they live in the present moment, not up in their heads remembering the day before or imagining the day ahead, like us humans.”

“I remember when you told me about being in the present moment,” I said, feeling quite smart all of a sudden. “You said it was a way of being in the world that takes focus. You said all living things are born with the ability to be present, but that most humans have forgotten.”

“Did I say that?” Grandma said.

“Yep, you sure did,” I assured her. Grandma forgets things sometimes too.

“Is it too early for breakfast?” I asked, suddenly feeling very hungry.

“It’s the perfect time,” Grandma laughed. She untangled me from her arms, and I got out of her bed. Then I took her wrinkly, spotted hand in mine and led her to the kitchen, where we found Grandpa. He’d snuck off quietly while we were talking to make coffee.

“Good morning little monkey,” Grandpa teased. He tried to imitate the sound the howler made, but it sounded more like a croaky frog, and I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt.

Grandpa poured me a glass of fresh orange juice and him and grandma a cup of coffee. Then the three of us went outside to sit by the pool. A herd of white cows were grazing in the field next to us. Their moo-sounds joined in with the squawks and the shrieks, the singing of birds and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Grandma had said she was looking forward to some peace and quiet on vacation, but it was much noisier here in the jungle than in the city. As I sat there listening to all the sounds of nature with my grandparents, I realized we were all being present, just like the animals. I felt how much they love me, and I love them, and my heart was full.

COMING UP…

Books & Projects:

·      In December 2025 I signed a contract with Austin Macauley Publishers for my manuscript, The Trials of Alex Anderson, a character-driven novel that explores the relationship between mental illness and trauma.  I am now on the road to publication, with an expected release date near the end of 2026. In February I worked with designers on the cover and its near completion. Last week I received the proofread manuscript for my review. Things are happening! I’ll be posting more updates here on  my blog and on social media, so stay tuned for more exciting new developments.

·      The Rogue Scorpion is available online at Amazon, Chapters-Indigo, and Barnes & Noble. You can also find it at select Chapters-Indigo and El Hombre de la Mancha bookstores.

Reviews & Interviews:

·      You can read, listen, or watch a large selection of reviews and interviews on my website.

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