Old San Juan echoes with centuries of history, dating back to the arrival of Christopher Columbus on the island in 1493 and the massive 16th-century Spanish forts overlooking the sea.
Steering our canoe around a turn in the river, my wife Fyllis and I suddenly were face-to-face — or, more accurately, face-to-knees — with a massive creature. Lifting its head, shoots of river greens cascading from its mouth, the huge moose stared at us as we stared back, then continued its meal.
Sitting on a beach in Aruba with a coworker as part of a promotional trip, the answer hit him. “Out of nowhere, I just said, ‘I wish I could paint the green water and rocks that surrounded us.’ ” It turned out his cohort was a watercolor painter, but hadn’t brought his paints with him.
Several years ago, when construction began on a housing development overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, an eagle’s nest with eggs was discovered in the forest that was about to be razed. Today, the aptly named Sanctuary community surrounds an island of trees that was preserved so the birds’ habitat would not be destroyed.
As the years passed, he would see it again in other family members, including a horribly forgetful aunt, who put ice trays into the stove instead of the freezer.
A series of products allows family members and caretakers to remotely check up on the well being of their loved ones and charges.
We arrived in Juneau on the second day of the cruise. Standing on deck as we pulled into port, we spotted a large American eagle perched on the ship’s gangplank. We weren’t in the “lower 48” anymore. We had arrived in a part of the country where even the best superlatives are inadequate.
A pride of lions feasts on the body of a rhinoceros as dozens of zebra, antelope and other animals look on. Dwellers in simple mud-plastered shelters live much as their ancestors did centuries ago.
These individuals are examples of people who’ve found ways of making the second half of their life as rewarding, if not more exciting, than the first.
Impaling a bright red strawberry on the end of a wooden shish kebab skewer, I held the fruit under a gushing fountain of milk chocolate, then popped it into my eager mouth.