The Famous Purveyor of Pineapples Continues to Eat the Costa Rican Jungle
National Route 2 south of San Jose, Costa Rica
Only yesterday I was quietly reading at the pool when a flock of Canadian – though they could have been from anywhere – tourists descended. Fourteen, to be exact. I just had to count. Six jumped in the water and complained about the lack of ice and no refrigerators in their rooms to cool their beer. The others flopped on lounge chairs and, scrolling on their smartphones, whined the Wi-Fi was weak.
hot tile leafcutter ants return via the dirt path
A flock of raucous Red-lored Parrots flew into the jungle trees bordering the pool. Raising their voices to talk to one another, the Canadians – though they could have been from anywhere – remained focused on warm beer and weak Wi-Fi. I grabbed my binoculars that were resting on the table next to me. A woman on a lounge chair said, “Look, he has binoculars,” then returned to scrolling.
focused flashes
of red stilled
amongst the leaves
I learned the parrots were eating a small nutlike fruit in the treetops, deftly stripping the green skin to expose the yellowish flesh inside. As I watched the parrots feast, the group in the pool began discussing Oppenheimer, the blockbuster film about the physicist who led the Manhattan Project. Having been a Los Alamos scientist, I couldn’t resist chiming in about the film’s timely importance and deficiencies like neglecting the Trinity Test’s impact on Indigenous populations. One man asked if I was traveling alone, which I affirmed, adding that I was taking local buses. He commented that he used to solo, but his wife likes to travel in tour groups, and then said tomorrow they will be touring a pineapple plantation, but he didn’t know where.
halfway to the capital
beneath cloud-forest peaks
beyond imagination
the temperature falls
to thirty-five degrees
The landscape, rural: family farms, feed stores, produce stalls, more school zones than I imagine the numbers of local children, the speed limit always reduced. At the edge of a village I am surprised by a pineapple research facility, and inquiring later, I learn about the Famous Purveyor of Pineapples’ efforts toward sustainability, a fact belied by stretches of cleared jungle straddling the two-lane highway.
another food struck from my list
Michael G. Smith, Bozeman, MT, is a chemist. His poetry has been published in many literary journals. His books include a poetry collection No Small Things; Flip Flop, a collection of haiku co-created with Miriam Sagan; and The Dippers Do Their Part, a co-creation of haibun and katagami with artist Laura Young. A bird watcher, he volunteers at a local wetland wildlife sanctuary and elsewhere.
See more of Michael's work in 12.2 and 12.1 and 11.1 and 11.1 and 11.1 and 10.2 and 9.2 and 9.2 and 9.2