Like a campy hallucination scene from a cautionary drug-addiction movie, pin-head sized white spiders skitter across my laptop keyboard and screen. But these are real (I think). As genuine as the warm, wafting breezes crossing the main living space of our rental house. And the mosquitoes so engorged they sit on the floor, unable to fly to safety before we crush them, leaving a splattered red gash as if the tile itself is bleeding. And the back-porch view gingerly explored through a light swarm of wasps protecting their corner of the porch where their nest is tucked dangerously away under a bench. Lush, forested mountains rise up from Ensenada Honda, the large inlet conveniently multiplying the coastline of Culebra, Puerto Rico.  The world heats up like a cool oven just turned on in preparation for a savory or sweet breakfast like baked oatmeal or French toast.

A Paragon of paradise.