David

There is a mystical river that runs through the rainforest above San Mateo in Costa Rica; a spiritual portal that whispers to those that are silent long enough to hear her call.  To say that this river is enchanting is an understatement which is a malfeasance to her deific beauty.  The river is called Rio Machuca, but that matters not; sometimes placing a label upon something tends to limit the majesty that this river emotes. The first time I witnessed this magnificent tributary was when our friend, Monica, walked Adi and me through the rainforest to experience the wonderment of

Howler Monkeys growl—it’s a low guttural roar that makes it feel like there is a beast in the jungle just waiting to pounce on the next unsuspecting, innocent person that makes their way into the trees and shrubs that dot the lush land.  This is Costa Rica.  The mornings start early here; 5 am is the sun’s call time while it punches out for the day around 6 pm; 13 hours to carry out whatever needs natural light to be accomplished.  If a person requires an alarm to rise at 5 am, the Howler Monkeys are a perfectly suitable replacement