A few of mine: The sound of the paleta man jingling down my street, "Aye Paletas!" The soft chirp of geckos behind the TV. The laughter and screeches of a cartload of carousing revelers on the way home from town, the driver expertly teasing the puddles for the delight of his passengers. The soft chit-chit-chit of gossamer-rusty hummingbirds moving from sundrenched flower to flower while I read on the porch. Distant songs caught on the wind, delivered by cormorants circling above, snatches of drumbeats from some party nearby, the rythmic shuffle sound of flip flops on ladies that go by. Midnight's swim: Soft creak of ropes and the lapping of the sea on a dock under the symphony of stars (with a Milky Way chorus) as the sounds, voices and laughter of an evening's work rinse away. "We're back, it's been a long time!" hearty greetings from friends returning. Sand in your ears as you Q-tip at the mirror. The sound a palm makes outside of your window, like ghostly librarians shushing a room, or the sound of an old woman using a broom.
beachy
AmbergrisCaye.com 
