In April of 2009 I made my first trip to a tropical destination. He-of-the-good-ideas and I along with 3 other couples went on an all-inclusive vacation Cuba for a week (I call it our honeymoon since we didn’t take a big vacation after we were married the year before). I loved the heat most of all, but second to that, the experience of drinking the sweet milk of a coconut through a hole hacked into the top by a sweet Cuban man who spoke no English. I remember standing in the middle of this sweet little clutch of buildings that made up the home of this quaint little family and reluctantly taking a sip of the nectar inside a freshly picked coconut, just handed to me. I figured I would be polite and take a taste, already bracing myself for what I imagined was a sweetness so foul. Then... hmmmmh. Well isn’t that lovely? The milk of a fresh coconut is indeed sweet, though not as I expected. It is fresh and light and simply delicious and oddly refreshing.
And on this chilly day that has followed so many other cold days, with thoughts of tropical vacations dancing through my mind and the memory of the delicate nectar of a fresh coconut on my tongue, I long to get away. It isn’t in the cards for us this year so instead I’ll put up the heat a little, close my eyes and dream of tropical sun on my skin.