The flow of life down in Melaque has changed a bit in two years. More construction, higher prices, and of course more tourists. Yet the heart of the town feels much the same. We’ve slipped back into the daily rhythm, reconnecting with friends we’ve made over 25 years of week-long and longer stays. Faces are familiar, conversations spark easily, and each encounter carries a memory of past visits. Happiness seems to hang in the air here — maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the way life slows down.
Evenings bring their own ritual. Most folks gather to watch the sunset, and last night Beth, Deb (Beth’s sister), Linda and I found ourselves at
The Rusty Compass, a
beach bar with a front-row view of the horizon. We shared appetizers while a talented musician played
electric piano and sang. His playlist wandered through slower, somewhat obscure songs —
Talking Heads,
REM,
Led Zeppelin,
David Bowie — each one a puzzle we tried to solve as the sky shifted from gold to deep violet. With music, laughter, and the ocean as backdrop, life couldn’t feel much better.
That’s the magic of Melaque: even as the town grows and changes, the rhythm of connection remains. A smile from a familiar face, a wave across the street, a shared memory over a drink — these small moments stitch together the larger story of why we keep returning. The sunsets remind us that some rhythms are timeless, and in their glow, we find ourselves exactly where we’re meant to be.
DB/AI
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