I FRAMED A FLASH OF CHARTREUSE in my binoculars. Followed the feathers through the blue for a few bright seconds. Then lost sight as wings blended into the feathery fronds of a palm, the flock in raucous chatter as it foraged fruit. When the parrots took flight minutes later, again my gaze alit on green wings; when the birds landed in the next leafy tangle, my gaze flitted away. It drifted farther, toward the horizon. From the ridge where the house was perched, I could see a length of the canal.

A ship’s prow emerged from the trees. The hulk of its hull grew slowly more hulking on the water’s smooth surface. It was the third that morning, now an hour after the sun had lifted. The first that had slid into view from behind the screen of dense foliage had made me rub my eyes, still bleary from my late arrival and a night of deep tropical sleep. Now, with a whole papaya in my belly, my eyes were fully awake.

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{Art by Jill Pelto}