There was a cow in the middle of the road.
At least, I assumed it was a cow. Growing up around the ruby red heifers on my grandparents’ ranch in Moultrie, GA, I had never seen a beast like this.
The ghostly visage standing before us had hare-like ears that drooped long in front of the shoulder. The animal’s scarred, dirty torso was thin and bony, a neglected carcass that seemed incapable of movement. Its eyes were black and wide, showing no signs of thought, much less a soul.
And it was not afraid.
That is how our first visit to Costa Rica began in the summer of 2013. We had a month filled with adventures, challenges and fun.
Now we’re headed back for almost an entire year.