Somewheresville

This afternoon it got dark, and, a few minutes after I had set off home in flip flops, carrying my heavy bags, water was released at full force from the 100 square km showerhead suspended over Corcovado. The sea went greenish and frothy. That night  phosphorescence lit the breakers from beneath creating 500-metre rollers of neon white – as bright as a search light – that lumbered up and smashed in a brilliant neon spray at the rocks in front of the house and against the wall of the bat cave at the end of the beach.