At the toll, a minimum wage motorcyclist paid with a five dollar bill. The attendant looks carefully, slowly at the water mark/hologram in the bill against the glare. The customer, irritated at the slow pace, grabs the four in change, and checks every dollar bill similarly.
A woman, a passenger with this gentleman has a wide round kettle to make rice on her lap. With her left hand,
holds to the driver, with the right the pot
to make rice, probably at the beach.
Once we pass this sign of things to come, a huge jam in the two way road to this public beach. It is 8:15, I became suspicious about any room left in the parking lot. At 8:45 we arrive to the parking area, my premonition came true. We parked in the street, walking perhaps two hundred meters to enter the unkempt public entrance, with just one dressed in green employee.
Not far, the inner city youth, hoodlums from our chabolas and housing projects were abundant. With their five hundred dollar cars and two thousand dollar stereos, 500 to 1000 watts at full blast playing what else? Regueton!
The sight was scary. Stoned, drunk, listening as in a competition to find out the loudest car stereo. We walked to the left, probably a mile, landing in front of the no tresspasing signs of some bankrupt hotel, Dorado Beach. I could still hear the sound of that damn music, not unlike AK47 and exploding mortars. That is why probably they enjoy it. The violence of the bass at full blast.
Thespesia populnea, Pines, Noni,
Terminalia catalpa, few Cocos nucifera,
crabs, pigeons, Mozambiques were the predominant biodiversity available.
Nice, warm, crystal clear water. Organic residues on the sand, with plastic bags flying around.
As time passed by, more fat, ugly, natives arrived with huge gas grills, food, beverages beer and alcohol getting closer and closer to our early real estate sand spot.
While in the water, the injury to the insult, use and custom that is the lack of respect of personal, individual space in Puerto Rico, four inner city youth arrived with two PITBULLS an adult and puppy. They sat two feet from our space and we left. Another day at the beach in the midst of barbarian islanders.
In the garden there is not much to report, that is new. Flowers bloom, some are relocated, the pumpkin is now climbing
the fence, but something else has never happened with such intensity.
Damage by snail attacks has increased among the Hibiscus, Plectrantus and Tradescantias. I believe that some tolerance to damage, aesthetic, that is, should be developed. But this is too much.
I decided to start damage control. If you read sometime that beer attracts this pest, is true. I use 2.7 tuna cans at
at soil level. Six snails and 16 slugs passed away, in 48 hours.
Damage from these creatures of god is different from beetles. The chewing, is at random, not on edges of leaves as the latter. I am not happy with the killing, but there is no choice. That is that, apaga i vamonos.