My Island Life Is Not Normal

I’m sitting here thinking about a new blog post to write, thinking, ‘There’s nothing else to write about!’ And then I look around and remember that my life is not what most people would consider “normal.”

I’m on the balcony of a third story building at the top of a hill overlooking the western tip of a gorgeous Caribbean Island. I’m sitting among palm tree tops and overlooking the aquas and blues of the Caribbean Sea.

A hummingbird just zipped up to me, held up only inches from my arm, and only then realized that my brightly colored sundress is not in fact a delicious flower. A turkey vulture cruises by the balcony, gliding past on his three-foot wingspan en route to better hunting grounds I’m sure. A few boats rest out by the reef, hardly moving or swaying at all in these unbelievably calm waters. A few clouds rest lazily in what I would otherwise deem a fake sky for its impeccably perfect gradient of blue from horizon to horizon.

Another hummingbird friend comes to visit. He is the same size as the clothes pin!

This is not a normal Friday afternoon where I come from. But now that I live in Roatan, this is all too familiar. So familiar, in fact, that while I gazed at the beauty around me and relished in its perfection, I forgot that readers living elsewhere might not even understand what I mean when I say, “It’s just a typical Friday afternoon!”

Right now, the Irish-Colombian is probably about 50-feet underwater, playing with turtles and gazing at sea fans. Lina is likely still sleeping off her morning walk, which included play time with four neighborhood dogs, taking a few minutes to sit and watch the neighborhood cows munch on the grass, and watching all the monkey lalas and other lizards scurry into the brush along the side of the road. Not bad for a brief morning mosey.

I know what my Friday afternoons used to look like: sitting in the office counting down the minutes until 5:30 so I could run outside to freedom and fun times with friends. As it’s still winter back home, that freedom would certainly be hampered by weather and I would likely have bee-lined straight to the closest bar where we could meet for happy hour.

Today, I’m relaxing in the sunshine and enjoying a cool breeze, listening to the Solgas truck drive through the neighborhood singing its song. I just came from my favorite cafe where I lingered over a latte and a conversation with a blog reader (Hi, Margaret!) and a few local friends. Soon, I’ll walk over to the dive shop to see if my Irish-Colombian has surfaced yet and wants to grab a bite to eat. Later, I’ll probably watch the sunset with a glass of wine in hand and toast to another gorgeous day.


Working from the balcony with a view. No complaints here!

I think I prefer my Friday afternoons now, taking in perfect moments as they happen, rather than counting away the minutes of my life waiting for something else to come.

14 thoughts on “My Island Life Is Not Normal

  1. Just perfect Amanda! It sure sucks to be us. I’m doing the same thing, hummers, blog and vultures included, no boats right now. Three dogs crashed on the porch and a cat laying on the table sleeping. It really doesn’t get much better than this! Have a great weekend!


  2. Hmmm. I like your office a LOT better than mine, and your rent is probably quite a bit lower too. I better get back to work so I can afford to relocate my goofing off!


  3. Wow..what a great story you have. My wife, two boys and I recently visited on a cruise. We loved our short little visit. We have considered selling our business and relocating there. Are there expats with children there?


    • Hi Dale! I’m so glad you loved my paradise 🙂 There are tons of expats here and many have kids. Send me an email with your kids’ ages and maybe I can find someone in a similar situation to put you in touch with. awalkins[at]gmail[dot]com


  4. Lovely views. We have similar ones here in Puerto Rico. You might’ve inspired a blog post on my part – paradise with kids! haha I envy your relaxing, but the weather is awesome, right?


Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s