Costa Rica Sketch Journal ~ July 14, 2008 (still)

Sketch/journaling is half the fun of traveling or taking a vacation. It gives your trip a continuing life ~ that vacation is never really "over" if you can go back and relive it in full color (and with memory joggers for scents, sounds, ambiences, and other happenings). Making a sketch and/or writing about your day's adventures will greatly enhance your memories later. Hey, sketch/journaling your DAILY LIFE is a trip of its own!

That's why I journal my travels and also why I love teaching travel journaling to others. What a wonderful gift to be able to give other people ~ the ability to "retake" a vacation!

....Back to July 14, Daniel and I were enjoying wandering down the creek, which was about four feet wide and only a few inches deep (navigable in Crocs or other water-type shoes, but you wouldn't want to do it barefoot or in shoes you expect to dry later ~ they'll probably mould before they would dry out at this time of year, the beginning of the rainy season).

A troop of howler monkeys passed by overhead, about five of them, one mother with a baby and ... WHOA! A pinto howler! One of the howlers, a big male, had areas on his body without black pigment and the fur was brilliant golden-orange! Since the troop was about 70' up in the leafy canopy, we didn't get a lot of clear viewing, but it was very obvious that a large part of its tail was pure orange, and part of its lower body. Fascinating! We must have watched for twenty minutes, until our necks complained so loudly they drowned out the fascination and we walked on.

The stream had a cut a ravine down the mountain so that the banks rose at an angle on each side covered with trees, shrubs, and vines. For much of the distance, the creek traveled parallel to the ocean, separated from the beach by a high ridge. We could hear and smell the ocean for much of the walk (see the map journal page above).

We saw cecropia trees in a canopy opening (they grow fast to fill up openings caused by fallen trees) and along the stream we found a palm studded with spines. You definitely wouldn't want to mess with that spiny palm! I collected a spine and a bunch of leaf skeletons, as well, which you can see on this journal page.

We were fascinated by the exotic buttresses on the trees. These are adapted to help hold the trees upright in the shallow, often water-logged soil. On this tree species, whatever it may be, the top of each flange was a gorgeous, unusual coppery orange.

Reaching the lagoon, where the stream pools before wandering out to the ocean, I found a big, boxy crab shell (see the picture at right).

Here you see the (fairly) well-equipped casual hiker, with a walking stick found along the bank, camera, binoculars, water bottle and lunch and a sitting pad in the bag. The camera is usually in the bag, but I'm holding it here. I also should have had a bandana to tie around my forehead (or a soft hat to wear) because later, on the beach, sweat kept running down into my eyes. This is the humid tropics, after all.

The lagoon waxes and wanes with the seasons. On a couple of our visits it has been almost entirely absent, with the stream emptying out right into the ocean. This time, it was lovely and broad, and I saw a jesus-christ lizard race across the lagoon from one side to the other (I didn't make that name up, they really call it that because of how it "walks on water"!). They're really fast and alert, and difficult to photograph.

It was a relief to get out into the beach breeze. As we sat companionably on a log eating energy bars (from my bag), we discovered we were being watched. Be sure to click on the image here to see who was peering out over the top of the log from under the beach almond. (Hint: remember what a pizote is from previous blog entries?)

After the pizote wandered off, we were just sitting watching the waves when Dan noticed a black blob coming toward on the beach us from the north. As we watched in puzzlement turning to astonishment, an Indian water buffalo pulling a wooden cart filled with people hove into view. Talk about incongruous!

We both started snapping photos of it, hoping not to offend, and apparently the people on the cart thought we were pretty funny, because they smiled and waved at us. Later back at the cabina I sketched the preposterous scene from the viewfinder on my camera (this is Dan's photo ~ his were the best, mine were too hasty).

I love my digital camera! That oxcart was in sight for only about five minutes, and only close enough to sketch for maybe one minute ~ I'd never have been able to draw it as it passed.

Speaking of digital cameras, when I travel, I always carry two spare sets of rechargeable batteries for my camera, plus my charger. That means I always have an extra set to carry along with me, even if I have to leave a set charging in my room ~ which has happened. Additionally, I don't have to worry about running the batteries down if I want to draw from the viewfinder or share pictures with others. I never have a problem with my camera running out of juice.

As well, I use a 1 or 2 Gigabyte storage card in the camera and always carry a spare card in case I fill the first one up. Knowing I have the spare card, I can take as many pictures as I want. And I have learned the hard way that before checking my bag for the plane ride home, it's a good idea to either carry the camera or to at least remove the card with my precious photos and tuck it into my wallet. My camera was stolen, along with my entire trip's photos, last February. I minded losing the photos a LOT more than I minded losing the camera ~ it sure was a good lesson!

Tomorrow's entry will the last one for this trip. It includes sketching the jungle from the beach, drawings of some cool things I found along the beach, and the trip home (including a crocodile!). See you then! And after that, I will get back into the process of preparing for my new Oregon Trail historical workshop.

Costa Rica Sketch Journal ~ July 9, 2008

The Day of the Sloth. This was a "slothful" day. It started off with a hike with Dan'l down the trail used by Gerardo to take rappelers to the waterfalls. Most people don't hike this trail because it's pretty steep coming back up ~ the rappelers only go down it. But I'd gotten a taste of it in February on my last visit, and I wanted to see where it went.


Watching carefully for snakes (just as one would watch for rattlesnakes in the desert), we moseyed down the switchbacks to the lovely stream at the bottom of the ravine, which is on the south side of the ridge our cabina is built on. At the bottom I sat down to sketch a vine winding its way up a tree while Dan explored along the stream.


Dim light filtered down greenly, and I was glad I had my little sitter pad because the ground was spongey wet. I had a pretty nice likeness of the vine by the time Dan splashed back up the stream. He had hoped to return with me back up the path and trot down to the beach for a nice soak in the tidepools, but I persuaded him to return without me because I had spied a wonderful buttressed tree I wanted to draw. Sitting on a log in the middle of the stream (on my sitter pad, for sure!) I spent the next forty-five minutes drawing the sinewy, sinuous, sensual roots.


Then, at a very leisurely pace, I wandered up the steep trail. I hardly registered how steep it was because I was going so slowly, photographing mushrooms, leaves, seeds, and putting my hand down right next to ..... a beautiful sloth skull! My jaw dropped. What's the likelihood of finding a sloth skull right beside the trail, at waist level, perfectly preserved with all its teeth, completely bare as though someone had scientifically prepared it for display?! It was gorgeous! (Confession: I have been a skull collector since I was a little girl ~ by high school I had more than 60 skulls in my bedroom-museum.)

Carefully packing a plastic bag around it (I keep plastic tote bags in the bottom of my carrybag so that if I set the carrybag down on a wet surface only the plastic bags will get wet, not my sketchbook edge), I tucked it into my bag to take back to the lodge and identify, and continued up the trail past a huge monkey ladder vine, and around the next switchback (in case you don't hike in steep places, a switchback is where a climbing trail "switches back" on itself to continue to another level). There, directly above where I'd found the skull, on the downhill side of the trail, was the rest of the sloth skeleton, nearly invisible as it consisted of tan bones scattered among tan leaves and sticks. The skull being smooth and cylindrical, had rolled down to the next level spot. Squatting down, I poked at them a bit to see what I could see and discovered a claw, nearly three inches long. I tucked that into my bag, too.

I sat quietly on a log awhile, further up the trail, to watch a mixed flock of birds chatter through all around me, totally ignoring me. They were foraging, and I watched a black-hooded antshrike (identified later) feed SOME kind of huge spidery thing to its companion. I looked around me at the log, at the leaf litter, at the sprawling vines and foliage, wondering what I was missing from my human viewpoint. Lots, apparently!


That afternoon, relaxing with Dan'l on our terrazo, I went up to check out the swimming pool for a possible dip and discovered .....well, read about it on the journal page here. It was very exciting! And here's a photo I took through the lens of the spotting scope Gerardo set up for us to look through. I sketched the journal page from a photo that he took, closer to the pair, with my camera.


Like I said, it was a slothful day.


******************************


Yesterday I said I'd try to include a scan of the painting I'm doing for the cover of The Southern Swamp Explorer. I've included it here.

By way of explanation: nothing is finished yet. While I have added color to many areas, I will probably go back and add/change/darken/lighten colors to get the effects I want.

In the alligator area, I've done quite a bit on the mama gator, and I'm now working on the vegetation mass which has sheltered the eggs. The vegetation is old, rotting, and will be darker, but at the moment I am coloring it. On the right I have applied the watercolor pencil, while on the left some of it has been watered already. It's not dark enough, but this underlayment of color will make the darkening look realistic.

Hiking the Passiflora Trail

April 27

7:04am Last night after a marvelously decorative dinner, Gerardo brought us a Bufo marinus to inspect -- a HUGE toad about 8” long and 4” wide. As Gerardo was showing us the huge glands behind its eyes which exude an irritant (to discourage predators), the toad swelled up bigger and bigger as it gulped down air. Soon it resembled a cantaloup with a face and legs. When Gerardo released it, it gradually deflated and hopped away into the shadows.

Only four frogs serenaded us from the pool during the night, but no eggs floated on the surface this morning. Perhaps the frogs gathered to reminisce about the delightful time they’d had the night before. Or perhaps the guys came back to brag while the ladies went off the recuperate. That seems more likely...

There were ten crabs in the pool this morning (two expired) but I fished out the rest with the net. These land crabs live out in the forest in holes in the ground. I saw one yesterday on the Ridge Trail popping back into its lair.

8:55am This morning I’m hiking the Passiflora Trail. Daniel drove me up to the trailhead in an El Remanso car because it’s a steep climb and I stubbed my toe yesterday (it’s a bit swollen, but I can’t miss an adventure!). At the trailhead we watched a troop of titi’s (squirrel monkeys) crossing overhead, one with a baby, tiny enough to have held in the palm of my hand, riding on her back. Then a troop of carablancas (capuchins) followed, leaping from branch to branch fearlessly. I’m working on my Spanish, and it’s fun learning new words.

Only a few steps into the shadowy trail I startled up a quail-like bird, very quiet and mousy, which I had trouble seeing in the dim light. It may have had markings, but I couldn't see any as it tip-toed furtively into the dark under some big leaves. (Later: Joel says it was probably a Little Tinamou.)

More monkeys are overhead. Titis are barking like chihuahuas and dropping hard little fruits down on me, and a bit farther away a sound like someone throwing around sheets of cardboard or heavy paper is capuchins leaping through heavy leaves in the canopy. It has begun to shower lightly – I heard its approach as a light tapping on the canopy to the southwest. I looked for the darkest bit of canopy to stand under and I’m staying dry enough to keep writing. This may last awhile.

I just sketched a young monkey ladder vine detail. I love this vine with its pockety flat lianas and split leaves. Some of the vines grow as big around as my waist at their bases on Ridge Trail. (Later: I found and photographed a really big one on this ridge, too)

The carablancas are now almost directly overhead. When they make a long leap, big water droplets come plummeting down. So far I haven’t gotten drenched.

10:40am I’m having a delightfully poky morning trying to spot creatures before they spot me. I have had success with an anole, two katydids and a giant cockroach. They blend in or hide so perfectly, they're hard to see before they leap (and it's even harder to get a crisp, clear photo in the dim light).

There are some incredible giant buttressed trees in this part of the forest. Joel recently went out with Dan and Gerardo, and they found bats, spiders and other fine things in the crevices of buttressed trees. Wish I had a flashlight!

4:19pm I'm back from my hike and it’s downpouring. Sitting on our cabina's veranda, I am dry and content to watch the natural libation. Daniel and I had planned to go down to the beach this afternoon, but we paused for a siesta and it began to rain. The downspouts are flowing, the sea is silver, the pool is rippling with dimples and the air is soft and cool. Actually, I don’t mind the enforced relaxation.

Over the roof of the restaurant I can see the red and blue flash of macaws, and there’s no missing their raucous, grating cries. They speak often to each other over their fruity lunches and as they fly two-by-two, hither and yon, over El Remanso. The toucans, with their outsize bills and brilliant markings, sing a melancholy hooting cry and fly singly, while the green parrots gabble noisily and labor mightily as they flap along.

I’ve been sketching the skulls in the skull box. I love skulls, and I've been experimenting with the various colors one can use to show "white." I did the pizote skull yesterday with lavender and yellow.

Today I'm going to try blue and black (gray, more likely) on the monkey skull, then maybe ochre for the sloth skull. The skulls are actually all a sort of grayish-white, but hey, I'm the artist here!