This is a creative writing style Blog article from Scott Alexander, a photographer who calls Costa Rica home and is not afraid to get out and find the best photos ops in all of the land.

I wonder for a moment if the lack of oxygen to my brain is why I am suddenly rationalizing, “If I’m going to find a monkey, I need to think like a monkey.” Then I realize that I have not a clue how a monkey thinks. Perhaps my idea of tying a banana to a string attached at the end to a stick wasn’t a bad one after all.

These are my thoughts as I pedal up this mountain trail on my bike. My self-appointed mission? Find Twelve Monkeys. Why? Because I haven’t seen any yet and I really would like to find some monkeys. Okay, so why twelve monkeys? I find interesting comparisons/contrasts between our current existence as a species and our future existence as portrayed in the film 12 Monkeys. Mostly, though, I’ve been in Costa Rica over four months and the closest I’ve seen to an actual monkey (not including squirrels) is this:

And that doesn’t count.

I stop for a moment to rest and to listen.

“And what sound exactly are you listening for, Scott, here in the forest,” I ask myself.
“Uhhhhh… You know, I don’t really know.”

Standing by the side of the trail, I realize that I’m totally unfamiliar with the sounds of the white-headed capuchin which, by my reasoning, is the species I am most likely to encounter in this region. But perhaps it’ll be distinctive enough that I’ll say, “Oh, that HAS to be a monkey.” I make a note to myself to search YouTube for “sounds of the white-headed capuchin” when I get home.

I’m sure some would say, “Seriously, just go to a national park; they’re crawling with monkeys!” Yes, I could certainly visit one of the great national parks and see monkeys. But that takes all the fun out of it for me. Costa Rica is a wildly lush paradise where these awesome little creatures swing freely in the trees. So I want to see that outside of a national park. Two of my neighbors just saw a family of them a few days ago while up in the mountains.

Others will certainly say, “I’m so used to the monkeys here now that I don’t even pay attention to them; they’re outside my frickin’ window all the time.” Yes, well, isn’t that just fantastic for you?! Thanks for rubbing it in.

I simply don’t live in a monkey-rich zone. They’re here, just not everywhere. Scarlet macaws, no problem. In fact, the macaws are so common I’m waiting to find them on a menu somewhere served with a side of papas fritas. (Not really.) But monkeys? They aren’t leaping from limb to limb outside my window.

So this is my quest. Not my vision quest because I’m pretty sure there’s no real purpose. Like many of my ventures (see moving to Costa Rica, see driving across the United States and back on a 49cc scooter), my search for twelve monkeys is another one of those “why not” endeavors.

And this is where I am at the end of day one: I searched high…

I searched low…

No monkeys.

Eventually, I called it a day and decided to rest in Playa Hermosa (which is where the trail led). After replenishing with some fresh liquids and watching a flock of birds fly overhead, I decided to head home.

As far as my primary objective goes, my first outing was not a success. However, I did spend a few hours meandering about through the forest enjoying the nature and what have you. And “Enjoy nature and what have you” was on my task list for the week so I did meet that objective. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that the best goals to have are the ones that are open-ended and satisfy the soul. It’s difficult to be disappointed with a task list that reads like fantasy. A friend of mine here (a Tico), though, recently warned me in conversation:

The clouds are like turtles here, man; they move so slow. You can spend forever watching them so you gotta be aware of that.

Good advice. And totally applicable to Costa Rica. It’s easy to lose yourself here in the moment. At the end of this particular day and in this particular moment, I found myself sitting on the beach in Costa Rica, watching the sunset. Watching the clouds like turtles crawl across the sky as it slowly faded into deeper shades of blue. Next time, monkeys… Next time.