I’m up at 3 a.m. It’s the time I start writing, and I thought today would be different because I finally finished the 2019 edition of The Costa Rica Escape Manual. “I’ll sleep in!” I said to myself. But here I am, wanting to write, again, to all of you.

I wanted to tell you about these crazy swirly sunsets. Each night, the sky isn’t a colored layered cake, but more like someone finger painting across the horizon in slow motion. If you can imagine taking orange and yellow paint, swirling it into turquoise, then dripping lavender across the sky before blending it into the entire canvas… that’s what’s happening in Costa Rica.

I loved finger painting as a kid, and we rarely got to do it in art class because we eventually finger painted all over ourselves— and our friends— by the end of the hour. I think nothing makes kids happier than that kind of freedom. Dipping their fingers in random colors and creating something so unique. It’s why you can’t help but smile as a child shows you their creation.

When you watch these Costa Rican sunsets unravel, your body relaxes and your mind stops racing. You start to believe in all sorts of things. You’re convinced of the goodness in this world.  You swear that you can be a nicer person, more patient and loving. And you believe that you can forgive others, even the ones that hurt you the most.

But most importantly, you believe the thing you want to do more than anything else in life is possible. It’s as if these sunsets are giving you a key to a secret door, to a party where you’re always invited.

Costa Rica changed my life. But you already know that story, I’ve written enough books on the subject. But what I didn’t realize was how many small increments of happiness have piggybacked onto each other. Little hitchhikers of laughter that I carry and drop off, before taking on more passengers. And all of you, those who have read my books or just follow us on social media, have been important pieces of happiness in my life.

Thank you for making my dream of becoming a writer come true, and for years of supporting this whacky journey my husband and I are on. It hasn’t been a smooth ride, but neither was my life back in that office. There are many types of potholes in life, and my head was full of them at that old job. If given a choice, I’ll always choose the literal potholed road as opposed to the metaphorical one. Both rattle your brain, but one takes you to the ocean’s edge where you can build sandcastles.

And I’ve been building them ever since I landed in this beautiful country. When I started, I never imagined how big they’d become. But Rob knew. He always knew. He started building our castle the moment we met.

The sun is finally coming up; it casts a rosy glow across the mountaintops and a pink-hued blanket of light across my home. I’m glad I’m awake to see it, doing what I love more than anything in the world: finger painting across my keyboard, typing words of color across the pages. Hoping they melt together like a first grader’s art project.  Hoping people will read them. Hoping it’s all not just a pink-hued dream.

With love, Nadine