Nicaragua: The Bridge on the Green Lagoon

The Charco Verde Hotel, where I was staying, is on the edge of a biological reserve. My favorite walk there was the short one along the path in front of my room to a place called the Green Lagoon, in English. This is the charco verde, which can also be translated as the Green Puddle.

Benches by the water, herons parading by, the island blue jay, screeching above me, it made a perfect place to write in my journal, read a book, or just sit for a while.

A left turn when I reached the lagoon took me past the local compost center, a series of mounds covered in palm branches, with a sign explaining how to compost. At least, that's what I think it was. My Spanish really isn't up to the compost technique level.

Continuing on that path took me the whole way around the lagoon. Eventually I reached a spot that had stopped me cold when I tried the loop in the other direction.

The obstacle was a bridge over the creek that fed from the lagoon into the lake. It was not in good shape, and had been made by resting two rails on rocks at either end, then nailing half-sawed logs to the rails, round side up, with the bark still on. Not only was the first step too high for me to manage, there were no hand rails. The water underneath looked murky and green and of an indeterminate depth. I had turned back.

Now I looked at it from the other side. I managed to get up onto the bridge, but I really didn't like that rounded surface, and got back down. The fisherman who had left his spot and his net to help me looked puzzled. When I looked at the water, I realized why. Today it was crystal clear, and about an inch deep.












With a big grin, I waded across. He laughed and returned to his net. I continued on the looping path. Soon he caught up and passed me, raising his catch so I could admire it. "Por comer!" He had his dinner.