“See this hole?” Diego asks, pointing to a spot on the trunk of the tree just over his head. “It’s where the ants come and go.” I had noticed the trees from the first day in Costa Rica. They have flat gray bark and rings up and down their trunks and limbs. But the leaves… What beautiful amazing leaves! I could not resist turning my lens to the leaves. The locals call them “trumpet” trees. I would call them “umbrella” trees. In a sudden tropical rainstorm, one could do way worse than to take refuge under a Cecropia tree. I…

…on the Sierpe River. But first, “Sierpe” is derived from the Spanish “serpiente,” meaning “serpent.” It is a tidal river, and I remember being impressed by its magnificent coils seen from the prop plane that brought me to the Osa Peninsula. On this, our penultimate day here, Captain Carlos maneuvers our pontoon boat up the river a few yards from shore. Both he and Diego, our guide, keep their eyes peeled for wildlife–birds of many stripes, iguanas, crocodiles–feeding and basking along the banks of the river. We look, too, of course, but aren’t nearly as skilled at spotting critters! “Baby…

So… on this day we saw toucans, a white hawk (more on that later), squirrel monkeys, a 3-toed sloth, exotic frogs and lizards and snakes. Where to begin? Late in the day, after visiting La Tarde–another wonderful, privately owned conservation project, this one in a remote mountainous area of the Osa Peninsula–a handful of us weren’t ready to call it a day. Our tireless guide, Dennis, took us to Miramar, an area of steep roads and astonishing views. From one of those views, we looked out over a valley and encountered this giant of a tree–standing head and shoulders above…

Dear friends: When I am old and decrepit and no longer good for anything on this earth, please take me to this beach on the Osa Peninsula of Costa Rica and lay me down among the hermit crabs and coconuts. There I will peacefully and happily drift off to paradise and never notice the transition. However…, to get there, I assume will require one more trip up Highway 245, one more bouncy, bone-jarring, teeth rattling ride! In a Land Rover with Michael driving, please, because he travels this road every day to work and is intimately acquainted with every pothole….