Fleeting moments stolen from Puerto Vallarta

And so my chin rested in that spot where the oily heads of hundreds of travelers and locals had rested before me, lying back and letting the sun bathe their limbs. Streetwashers routinely splashed small cups of water across the sidewalks, over and over and over, each cup cleaning a new patch of the weathered concrete. I fell into chants of "no gracias" and "nada" as the merchants approached, wheeling and dealing their services and silver. And the sun beat down. The crumbling blocks on the walkways and the yellowed stairs told the tales of generations. But I am just a foreigner, a visitor with visions of endless undiscovered beaches, shoreline-nestled fishing towns, chimney smoke and sizzling fire pits. Photographs capture just a piece, and the rest of the hustling, bustling world lives on.

The blue and white fabric of my rented sun chair left patchwork markings across my skin. I sat up and studied the bluest of the blues, where skyline married ocean in a crash of tide and foam, white as ivory. I longed to wear the same earthen clothing I saw covering their sun-kissed flesh, light and loose, beautiful and apparently freshly weaved from the finest of the cotton harvest or the most tender wool taken from the happiest, fattest sheep. Some life carried on here that defied all that I had previously imagined - a fine little island, accessible only by ship.

A young boy approached me, selling chicle. He was shirtless and as brown as deep cocoa, but his shy smile gave him away. We bartered like civilizations of old, pesos for gum, and he turned and scurried away, clutching the tray of precious goods that hung around his neck by an old leather band. Not so much existed between us, no true barrier of alienation. I saw this boy reflected in me, his childhood flowed as a tributary next to my own as the great stream of life rushed and coursed like the blood in my veins. There was no need for words, my language was his, and his smile was mine. I stretched and turned onto my stomach, wishing to remain in that scorching sunlight as long as it took, until my skin darkened to the color of chocolate.

'We've only been here a fleeting moment, but I've taken that moment and run. And it is mine now; I will not set it free.'