With Love from Belize
Letters from Allora
I disappeared for a minute. Not in a dramatic “find myself” way—more like a life got loud and my brain refused to organize thoughts into paragraphs way. I had plenty to write about. Too much, actually. New students rolling in every month, stepping into a Rehab Director role, and suddenly my creative energy and my brain was overstimulated. My words felt… cluttered, buffering like bad Wi‑Fi. Ironically enough, bad Wi-Fi is abundant down here.
Call it being uninspired. Call it a perfectionist avoiding imperfect work. Honestly? Dealer’s choice.
But I’m back. Hi. Miss me?
And apparently, during my brief absence, I aged at record speed. Somewhere between 36 and now, I jumped straight to 76—because I went birding. On purpose. With enthusiasm. Binocular‑level enthusiasm.
So grab a seat. This one has jungle mornings, loud red birds, muddy roads, and a detour that made me question both my vehicle choice and my life choices—in the best way possible.
Let’s get into it.
The Scarlet Macaw Preserve in Red Bank Village sits quietly in Belize’s Stann Creek District—just an hour (and a little change) from Punta Gorda. When my coworker invited me to join her and her husband for a visit, I had no idea I was signing up for one of the most captivating mornings I’ve had in southern Belize.
Amazement.
Awe-struck.
Those are the only words that come close.
The macaws flew in pairs, then suddenly in full-on groups, slicing through the sky before landing in the trees right in front of us—as if on cue. Their red bodies flashed against wings brushed with blue, green, yellow, white, and black. It felt less like birdwatching and more like stumbling into a living mural.
A little history for context: Belize isn’t just known for its beaches, jungles and chocolate —it’s deeply committed to wildlife preservation. Jaguars get a lot of (well-deserved) attention, but thanks to the Belize Audubon Society, Red Bank Village has become a protected haven for these fiery-colored beauties. We were lucky enough to stay right in the village and explore with a local guide whose sharp ear for bird calls made spotting macaws feel effortless.
If birding is your thing, do yourself a favor and book through a tour guide company. We stayed at Scarlet Macaw Bed and Breakfast (yes, on Facebook), and while the accommodations were rustic, they were clean, welcoming, and exactly what the experience called for. I’d happily stay there again.
Remember when I mentioned in previous posts that I was living in jungle country? This is that jungle. To see these baddies, you have to earn it. The macaw season runs from December through March, when mornings—especially starting in January/February—are refreshingly cool before the heat and humidity roll in. As a bonus, this part of Belize offers a deep connection to Mayan culture that quietly enriches the entire experience.
And just when we thought the morning couldn’t get more memorable, we went off-roading into Amish country.
Off-roading…in a Honda CRV.
The road was equal parts gravel and mud, with a mini river crossing thrown in for good measure. Once we made it across, we entered Roseville, home to a local Amish community. The shift was immediate. No engine noise. No rush. Just quiet, open land, horse-drawn buggies, and calves casually roaming the road.
It was farm life in its purest form—undisturbed, unhurried, and deeply grounding. The air felt crisp. The silence felt intentional. And for a moment, it crossed my mind that maybe this is what Blake Shelton meant when he sang about “God’s Country.”
And honestly? He might’ve been onto something.
With Love From Belize,
Allora Mariesa
PS: Happy Valentine’s Day. Tell someone, anyone….that you love them <3
