Winter in Baja Day 33: An introvert’s paradise

Somewhere north of El Cardonal //

This morning the water is as calm as we’ve seen it in weeks.  Thanks to the stillness we’re easily able to see any disturbance in the water which reveals how much life is residing just beneath the surface.  Mobula rays are jumping in the distance in every direction, schools of tiny fish are catching air as they attempt to escape whatever predator is after them, waterfowl of some kind are floating in a tight circle of a hundred or more and all dive and feed in complete synchronicity, and as far as the eye can see a whale’s tail is spotted and it slowly begins getting closer.  Ocean theatre keeps our eyes fixated on the water for much of the morning.

Josh, Darci & Hannah depart to spend a day in LaPaz and for the first time in a month we’re alone.  It feels odd but welcome.  Mark & I have never before been as social as we have these last few weeks, the company we’ve found ourselves in has been absolutely incredible. But we’re both introverts and the chance to spend the day in solitude is a nice change of pace.  I do a little paddleboarding, Mark does some snorkeling, and we each work on some individual projects we’ve been looking forward to but haven’t had the chance to dive in to.

At one point in the day we get word that there is a major snowstorm in Colorado.  We go online to see for ourselves via highway webcams and surf the temperature map on the Windy app to see that much of the US is experiencing extremely low temps.  My mind flashes back to living in Colorado at 8,000’, to the stress of driving on icy roads, to the cabin fever that would set in hard as winter dragged on, to the relentless dream I had to live on the road full-time and travel with the weather.  These thoughts flash through my mind while I’m looking at Mark in shorts and flip-flops and am thinking of going for a swim.  It is a wild and wonderful feeling for your reality to be the life you once dreamed of.

After a sunset stroll down the beach, we decide to cook and eat inside, something we haven’t done in a month.  It feels strange to be indoors for dinner and makes me realize just how incredible the weather has been for us to be comfortable spending so much of our time outside.  

By day’s end the water is just as calm as when the day began.  So calm that, from inside the camper,  I can hear the splash when the rays jump and crash back down onto the water.  When I step outside to brush my teeth, everything is still and quiet and dark and there isn’t another human around for as far as the eye can see.  It’s an introvert’s paradise.