The winter is hands down the best time of year in the Caribbean. Early sunrises unfold into crisp mornings as the air starts to warm. Afternoons are filled with sunshine and usually strong, cooling breezes that make for perfect temperatures. Evenings are down-right chilly, well, chilly for those of us who have been lucky enough to grow accustomed to the weather anyway. Temperatures usually hover a bit over 80 in the day and dip into the 70s at night. It doesn't get much better than a beautiful winter day in the Caribbean. 




It's also the time of year when family and friends, fed up with arctic air and feet of snow, start coming down to visit. I had the pleasure of the company of several friends who visited St. John recently. For two of them it was their first trip and for one it was her first time back to the island in five years. 




Daily snorkeling trips to the beach were punctuated with poolside sundowners at their villa, languid dinners on the deck and long talks under skies teeming with stars. Conversations usually started with the list of underwater amazements spotted during that morning's snorkel, but would inevitably turn to one creature my friend Beth found on the sand. 




"Why are there roosters on the beach?" She couldn't quite understand. While this is not Key West, where chickens have a place of honor, fowl can be found just about everywhere on St. John. You can see chickens crossing the streets in Cruz Bay, digging around the Frank Powell Park, near the ferry dock, and yes, at the beaches. I know some people who trap chickens on their property and "relocate" their feathered friends to locales other than their backyard. Other times, I think the roosters and chickens could simply be enjoying an
afternoon at Francis Bay beach just like the rest of us.




In all seriousness though, I must admit here that cock fighting still happens on this island and throughout the Caribbean. There are animal cruelty laws on the books, but they do not include cock fighting. I remember when the local legislature passed the animal cruelty bill, probably about five years ago, and the cock fighting debate arose. It was determined that the cock fighting issue could be a deal-breaker for the bigger issues at stake, so it was left off the bill. Perhaps then it's not too odd to think of a proud rooster rightfully enjoying a peaceful day on the beach.




All talk of chickens and roosters stopped abruptly one morning, however, when my friends had a few unusual visitors at the door. 




"Are you kidding?" was the first thing I heard ring out from the entry way to their villa.




Right there off the kitchen on the other side of the door were a mother donkey and her baby poking their heads into the glass doorway. Wild donkeys roam St. John and still make me smile whenever I see them running, nuzzling or lounging about the streets and hillsides. Living aboard a boat, I haven't had them ruin my flowers, which is the number one complaint against donkeys here. They do eat anything, and many a well-cultivated garden has been diminished to shreds after a family of donkeys has passed through.




Driving along the road and coming across a few donkeys - especially the heart-warming sight of a furry baby and her mom - is charming and is sure to put a smile on your face. The wild donkeys here descended from domesticated ones that either escaped or were left to roam. They normally roam in small packs of three or four, but sometimes you find them in larger groups.




There are plenty of local tales about the beasts. They most certainly used to be quite useful for transportation and hauling materials. A common saying here is "donkey years," which means "eons," as in "I haven't seen you in donkey years." 




I've heard it said that the reason we drive on the left side of the road is because donkeys walk on the right side. I can't validate the truth in that and I've seen donkeys walking on both sides of the road. But it's still something to tell the tourists at any rate. 




I have also heard that a donkey at the door means news is coming. I've been checking with my friends and, not counting the several feet of snow they encountered when they returned to their northern Atlantic coast homes, there hasn't been any big news. Perhaps there is another blizzard coming! If that's the case,  I hope they - and all of my regular readers -  consider a trip down here to ponder the creatures above and below the water as well as right outside the door.