“I hope you like mango’s”, she says, “it’s all you can eat here”. I stare out over her yard. The Belizean soil is filled with mango’s that have just fallen from the numerous trees. Those trees could probably feed everyone in this country. Too many mango’s to eat. I see coconut-, banana- and avocado-trees surrounding and trying to conquer the space. But here there’s definitely enough space for all of them. There’s enough space for every human being here. Maurice, the lazy but dominant dog strokes his snout against my arm. I look into his puppy eyes that have grown up to adult eyes but their trick still works. I pet his head and tickle under his muzzle. His friend Bush runs past the cabana with an iguana in his beak. He tosses it around and is the dominant one too, if only for the morning, while playing around with his haul. The sun strokes my hair while the sea breeze blows it to the other side of my shoulders. I take a sip of my coffee while the smell of it’s fresh roastedness tickles its way into my nostrils. The warm tasty liquid fills my mouth and it feels like I can distinguish every little bean that was used to make this cup. This tastes great. Everything seems to taste great when its planted with love, harvested with care and prepared by a relaxed pair of hands. And consumed in the here and now by a happy person. May God bless my life. It’s almost too blissful to be true.
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