Give peace a chance

This item appears on page 16 of the November 2010 issue.

My April 2010 trip to Costa Rica had been, to this point, mediocre, at best.

It was not that I was unappreciative of the rural beauty of the lush countryside or the geometrically stunning patterns of the vivid rainforest flora — a wild, picturesque backdrop to the majestic, long stretches of beach situated beneath awe-inspiring vistas of rock formations anchored to the vast ocean floor.

It was that I had traveled to Manuel Antonio National Park hoping to enjoy an intimate look at the park’s biodiversity, only to discover a multitude of guided tours inundated with sweaty tourists taking turns squinting through a telescope to view a speck of an animal tucked within the arms of the canopy.

It was my last day in Costa Rica and I had yet to find the elusive quiet of the forest that I had traveled 2,000 miles to experience. I decided to act on a tip I had received from my hotel’s hiking guide, who recommended walking the trail through Manuel Antonio on a weekday afternoon rather than in the morning, as most group tours there begin at 9 a.m.

Wanting to give the park one more try, I caught the hotel shuttle at around noon. Oscar, the driver, was able to convince the guards to allow me to pay the entry fee at the park’s entrance but enter through its exit, enabling me to skip the hour-long walk through crowds and head straight for Playa Espadilla Norte, one of the park’s many gorgeous beaches.

After lying listlessly in the sun for two hours, my mind twirling in rumination as the waves roared and whispered with each ebb and flow, I headed toward a water fountain I had passed on the way in.

Turning onto a path on the forest floor, I was surprised by a troop of capuchin monkeys playing far below the forest’s canopy.

The family’s alpha-male quietly watched over the group as the youngsters rolled around, engaging in playful spats. Others carefully groomed parasites from each other, showing gentle signs of affection. As the troop gracefully drifted from branch to branch, other creatures began to emerge from within the forest.

As I watched, a petite, silky anteater scurried in search of insects; three Macroteiid lizards quarreled over a mango; birds belted whimsical chants in melodious song, and a Jesus Christ lizard lay perfectly camouflaged among the creviced bark of a tree.

Thunder cracked in the distance, yet I could not lift my fixation off the tiny creatures, which instinctively scurried about to find places to hide before the approaching storm.

While the last of the park’s visitors trickled out to avoid the approaching storm, warm droplets of rain cooled my face and the pure scent of earth permeated the salty air. I walked back to the spot on the beach where I had felt defeated and uninspired just a short time before.

Isolated and deserted, the park was truly magnificent, mysterious and primitive. I now understood why travelers religiously flocked to this enchanting jungle by the sea. It was an extraordinary place that in many ways has been exploited, and because of that I had undervalued its rarity and allure.

Like all places worth visiting, one must seek out the beauty. Eventually, nature reveals itself to those who appreciate its unyielding will and mesmerizing brilliance.

MARIA RUSSO

Monroe, NJ