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Now Live: TV Channels from Saint Vincent and the Grenadines 🌤
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A new country page is now available on Squid TV. Enjoy local news, entertainment, and community programming from SVG.

#SaintVincent #Grenadines #CaribbeanTV #LocalNews #IslandTV #livestream #SVG

MultiSearch Tag Explorer MultiSearch Tag Explorer - Explore tags and search results by aéPiot

#MAN OR #MOUSE
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#GOVERNOR #GENERAL OF #SAINT #VINCENT #AND #THE #GRENADINES
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Cool if you are citizens of these Caribbean Islands
like an EU share their wealth than be sucked dry abused

#CaraCom NewTradeVISA movements
#Barbados #Dominica #StVincent #Grenadines #Belize

Four Caribbean Nations Just Did What No One Expected
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RuVI...

1979-1985 flag

#AccaddeOggi #27ottobre 1979
#SaintVincent e le #Grenadines dichiarano l'indipendenza

#OnThisDay 1979 #October27
#StVincent&Grenadines declare independence

#vexillology
#vexillologie
#vexilología
#Вексиллология
#旗幟學
#bandiere #vessillologia #caraibi #caribbeans #SVG

Countryballs St. Vincent and the Grenadines 2025
Youtube | Instagram @wedgyblue

Bio: wedgyblue.carrd.co

#art #fediart #digitalillustration #illustrations #countryhumans #countryballs #digitalart #countryballsSt.Vincent #Grenadines

St. Kitts and Nevis latest Caribbean country to join REAP The St. Kitts and Nevis gov­ern­ment has wel­comed the de­ci­sion by the St. Vin­cent and the Grenadines based Lynch Caribbean Bro­kers Ltd. To in­clude the twin is­land Fed­er­a­tion in the Re­gion­...

The St. Kitts and #Nevis government has welcomed the decision by the St. Vincent and the #Grenadines based Lynch Caribbean Brokers Ltd. To include the twin island Federation in the Regional Economical Agri-Insurance Programme (REAP). www.guardian.co.tt/news/st-kitt...

#Erdbeben Mag. 4.8 (vorläufig) #St. Vincent und die Grenadinen
(19 km N von Chateaubelair) , Tiefe: 141.2 km
earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/...

Map: maps.app.goo.gl/GV1cGSdX9pHY...

Mutmaßlich zu tief um Schäden anzurichten

vor 26 Minuten

#earthquake #Grenadines

Four CARICOM States to Launch Full Free Movement in October. - The St Kitts Nevis Observer From 1 October 2025, four CARICOM states will introduce full freedom of movement, allowing their citizens to live and work freely across borders, though not all members are ready to join yet.

From 1 October 2025, #Barbados, #Belize, #Dominica, and St. Vincent and the #Grenadines will allow full free movement. This means citizens can enter, leave, return, live, work, and stay as long as they like in those states, with no need for permits. www.thestkittsnevisobserver.com/four-caricom...

Sunday swim time! 😍
Breathtaking here this morning.

#SundayFunday
#travel #Grenadines
#boatlife

The ‘off-season’ is a beautiful peaceful thing. 🥰
#UnionIsland #TravelPhotography
#Grenadines

Antillean Crested Hummingbird in the Ixora On our last morning in Bequia, Bhavna spotted an Antillean Crested Hummingbird feeding among the red Ixora blooms at the Bequia Beach Hotel.

#birds #antilleancrestedhummingbird #bequia #birdsofthecaribbean #grenadines

Antillean Crested Hummingbird in the Ixora On our last morning in Bequia, Bhavna spotted an Antillean Crested Hummingbird feeding among the red Ixora blooms at the Bequia Beach Hotel.

#birds #antilleancrestedhummingbird #bequia #birdsofthecaribbean #grenadines

Antillean Crested Hummingbird in the Ixora The bird hung in the air, wings a blur, the metallic green of its body catching the sun in shifting fragments of light. Above its head, the small crest—dark at first glance—flashed deep blue as it tilted, each feather edged so fine it looked brushed by hand. Along its throat and chest, green-gold tones rippled and faded with every slight movement, as if the colour itself were alive. Bhavna and I were returning from breakfast at the Sugarapple Inn. It was our last day on Bequia. As we crossed the yard of the Bequia Beach Hotel, heading back toward the beach to reach our cottage, Bhavna’s gaze caught on a flicker of movement among the Ixora shrubs. She slowed, pointed, and there it was—the Antillean Crested Hummingbird, no more than a few metres away. Antillean Crested Hummingbird (Orthorhyncus cristatus) · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 8000 · 1/1000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/14 It hovered with precision, dipping its long bill into a cluster of red blooms. Ixora, rich in nectar, offers the concentrated sugars a bird like this needs to sustain the constant motion of its tiny body—its heart beating hundreds of times a minute. In the wild, it would also seek heliconias, hibiscus, and other tropical flowers, each visit feeding it and carrying pollen between blooms. Small insects—gnats, fruit flies, tiny spiders—make up the rest of its diet, taken mid-air or plucked from leaves in quick, darting snatches. The garden around us felt unhurried, the colours deepened by the morning sun. Glossy leaves caught the light, the Ixora’s reds almost glowing against the green. A faint wash of surf came from beyond the sand, mingling with the dry rustle of palm fronds above. Antillean Crested Hummingbird (Orthorhyncus cristatus) · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 8000 · 1/1000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/14 The hummingbird worked methodically, lingering at each flower for only a second or two before pulling back to hover, crest flicking with the movement. Each shift revealed a different facet of its plumage—sometimes brilliant and iridescent, sometimes muted—as the light caught or slipped away. Its wings moved too fast to see, more a tremor in the air than a sound, a soft pulse that seemed to hold the moment in suspension. We stood still, careful not to close the space between us. The bird’s movements were both confident and watchful, each hover no more than a breath before the next dart forward. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it rose higher, crest catching one last glint of light, and vanished over the shrubs toward the edge of the hotel grounds—perhaps to another garden, another set of blooms. The Ixora trembled faintly in its wake, the morning returning to its slower rhythm. * * * These photographs were made using the updated camera setup I described Birds, Bequia, and the Lens. ### Like this: Like Loading... Birds Travel Antillean Crested Hummingbird Bequia Bequia Beach Hotel Birding Birding Lifer Birds of the Caribbean Friendship Bay Grenadines Ixora Coccinea Lesser Antilles Orthorhyncus cristatus Saint Vincent and the Grenadines Tropical Birds Windward Islands

#birds #antilleancrestedhummingbird #bequia #birdsofthecaribbean #grenadines

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The Last Morning Under the Flamboyant Tree Our last morning in Bequia unfolded like any other — doves in the grass, the mockingbird in the flamboyant, and Patches climbing the steps for her eggs.

#birds #bequia #grenadines #travel

The Last Morning Under the Flamboyant Tree It was our last night in Bequia. The next day we would travel from Port Elizabeth on the “Fast” ferry back to Kingstown, leaving behind the rhythms we had settled into. Even so, the morning began as it always did, with the familiar company of animals that had become part of our stay. Out behind the Sugarapple Cottage, Zenaida Doves (Zenaida aurita), Common Ground Doves, and Eurasian-eared Doves were regulars. Stocky, with soft grey-pink breasts and a quiet way of moving, they foraged in the patch of grass by the back wall, picking through for seeds. The morning light was soft, just starting to filter into the shaded patch by the back patch of oleander trees. When they lifted off, the rush of wings was quick and low, barely breaking the morning stillness. Zenaida Dove (Zenaida aurita) · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 6400 · 1/2000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/8.0 Some mornings, before breakfast was even served, Patches would appear. Bhavna gave her the name after spotting her patchwork coat — warm caramel and soft black stitched over white. She would stroll in from below the hill at the southern side of the verandah, climbing up the concrete step to the kitchen area. She always appeared nervous, and it took a few days for her to get used to us. Sometimes she would stop just short of the verandah steps, deciding. Bhavna named her patches. · Sunday 11 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 3200 · 1/500 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 294.5 mm · f/6.4 We got into a rhythm: Patches would arrive, wait, and we would give her the egg scraps from our plates. We ordered extra eggs when we realised she was pregnant. One day Patches arrived with what appeared to be a smaller version of herself — perhaps one of her older kittens. Behind them on the steps was a black cat that looked a lot like the male cat from the Bequia Beach Hotel, and behind him was a female orange cat. I think there was a pecking order, with Patches at the top. Tropical Mockingbird (Mimus gilvus) · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 250 · 1/1000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/8.0 High in the flamboyant tree at the edge of the verandah at the Sugarapple Inn dining area, the Tropical Mockingbird (Mimus gilvus) and a Eurasian-collared Dove were there almost every morning, often sharing a branch. The mockingbird was all restless energy, scanning the yard with quick, decisive turns of its head. The dove seemed more patient, content to sit and watch. Overhead, the Magnificent Frigatebird (Fregata magnificens) would drift by — impossibly long wings, a slow glide against the brightening sky. Magnificent Frigatebird (Fregata magnificens) · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 1000 · 1/1000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/14 After breakfast, arriving back at the cottage, we’d often find a Tropical Mockingbird perched on the fig tree or the fence. Sometimes, it was farther down, perched on a branch over the beach near the cottage, with the pale blue sea behind it. I liked to imagine it was the same one from the flamboyant, making its way down to see us again. It probably wasn’t, but I didn’t let go of the thought. Tropical Mockingbird (Mimus gilvus) · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 640 · 1/250 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/14 There were other creatures too, less familiar but still part of the pattern. The dog on Friendship Road barked at me almost every time I passed her house on my early walks. Once, in the early afternoon, I often saw her lying in the grass between the homes near Sugarapple Cottage, head lifted, ears pricked as if listening for something beyond. She barked at me almost everytime I walked by · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 2000 · 1/1000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 520.2 mm · f/7.1 When we ate dinner at the Bequia Beach Hotel, other cats joined the evenings. A small black female with light brown marbling — a torby, perhaps — would sit quietly near Bhavna’s chair, waiting for scraps. She was patient, almost polite. The black and white male was not. He would push in, swipe at her, and try to claim her place. Bhavna gave him nothing, guarding the scraps for the one who waited. There was also an orange cat we spotted one day in the grass, while we were hunting for that “locals only” lunch spot — a brief appearance, just a still shape in the shade before slipping out of sight. The Huntress · Thursday 15 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 1600 · 1/1000 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/8.0 These animals were not pets, not ours, but they shaped the edges of our days. On this last morning, they were there as they had been every day — in the trees, on the paths, under the verandah — going about their lives, untroubled by the fact that we were leaving. By the next morning they would greet other guests, and the rhythms we had slipped into would go on without us. I knew that when we stepped onto the ferry in Port Elizabeth, I would carry the sound of doves’ wings, the mockingbird’s restless gaze, and Patches’ slow climb up the steps with me — small, ordinary moments that had come to mean something. ### Like this: Like Loading... Travel Bequia Bequia Beach Hotel Friendship Bay Grenadines Lesser Antilles Magnificent Frigatebird Saint Vincent and the Grenadines Sugarapple Cottage Tropical Mockingbird Windward Islands Zenaida Dove

#birds #bequia #grenadines #travel

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Lunch and a Mojito at Sunset A hidden lunch spot found through a local tip, and an evening of mojitos, music, and easy conversation under the almond trees.

A hidden lunch spot found through a local tip, and an evening of mojitos, music, and easy conversation under the almond trees.

#Bequia #Grenadines #CaribbeanTravel

Lunch and a Mojito at Sunset After breakfast, Bhavna and I retraced the path I had walked alone earlier that morning. The sun was higher now, and the light harsher. We made it to the top of the hill, just past where the pavement turns to gravel, and she stopped. “I’m done,” she said, and I knew she meant it. Her voice was flat, not unkind, but final. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and stared ahead without moving. Her shirt was already clinging to her back. I looked up at the hill we hadn’t yet climbed and nodded. She’d given the morning all she had. No point pushing. On the way back down, we saw the couple from our daily breakfasts at Sugarapple Inn. I’m good with names but I don’t remember theirs. They looked just as hot and just as tired. We complained to each other about the hills and the humidity—laughing more than whining. They were searching for the Bequia Whaling Museum, which I knew was just over the other side of the ridge. I might’ve joined them if I’d been alone, maybe even walked back up. But Bhavna couldn’t be convinced. So we said our “see you laters” and carried on down the hill. View from Friendship Road with Semple Cay, Middle Cay, Petit Nevis, and Isle à Quatre. · Wednesday 14 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 160 · 1/1700 sec XF27mmF2.8 R WR · 27 mm · f/5.6 Partway down, Bhavna stopped again—this time to point into a patch of dense White Leadtree (Leucaena leucocephala), a fast-growing shrub with long feathery leaves. Something rustled deep inside. We squinted into the shade. There, just for a moment, an iguana froze in the middle of the thicket, one claw wrapped around a low branch. Its body was a dull olive green, with darker mottling along the tail, and it was easily half a metre long. Its eyes were steady and unblinking. For a moment, we just looked at each other—us and the iguana. Then it vanished, crashing through the undergrowth with surprising weight. The branches bounced and stilled. I had tried to swap lenses, but it was too fast. Earlier that morning at breakfast, we’d chatted with the Sugarapple Inn groundskeeper about our failed attempt to find lunch in Lower Bay the day before. He’d nodded slowly and said there was a spot, hidden, known only to locals—no signs, no advertising. “You need to know someone,” he said with a little smile. We took his directions on faith. As we made our way back down from the hill, tired and sweaty, we decided to detour and look for the lunch spot. The path led through a gap between two homes and into a small open area bordered by trees—maybe plum or sugar apple, I couldn’t say for sure. The structure wasn’t a shack exactly, and certainly not cobbled together. It was built of wood, simple but solid, with a galvanised metal roof catching the sunlight. There was no sign, no posted menu—just the smell of something cooking and the sound of dominoes slapping down on plastic. A few workmen were gathered around a table, laughing between plays. One man, shirtless, flashed us a grin and asked if we are lost. We smiled back, and asked about food, and a woman stepped forward, wordless, took our money, and minuted later handed us two warm foil-wrapped parcels. We thanked her, and she nodded once before disappearing again. We took our food back to the cottage. I don’t remember what I ate—maybe fish, maybe stew—but it was savoury, spicy, and exactly what we needed. We sat on the verandah and ate with our hands, licking sauce from our fingers. Afterward, we changed into swimwear and headed into the water. Sea Almond (Terminalia catappa) · Wednesday 14 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 160 · 1/150 sec XF27mmF2.8 R WR · 27 mm · f/3.6 The sea was flat and warm, clear right down to the sand. We waded out slowly, then floated, our limbs loose from food and sun. I ducked under and looked up through the surface—the sky above was pale and quivering. We swam for a while, then drifted in the shallows. There was no rush. When we came out, we sat again on the verandah and shared the last of the fruit Cousin Carlos had given us. Two mangoes and a starfruit—bruised, sticky, sweet. The mango peeled easily, and the juice ran down our wrists. The starfruit was still cool from the fridge, tart and refreshing. It was the kind of snack you eat slowly, not because you’re hungry, but because you don’t want to do anything else. In the shade of the Pink Trumpet-Trees · Wednesday 14 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 160 · 1/2900 sec XF27mmF2.8 R WR · 27 mm · f/2.8 The trees rustled gently above us. A small breeze came up from the water. Nothing pressed on us—not time, not responsibility, not even the heat. I stretched out on a beach chair under the Sea Almond (Terminalia catappa) and Pink Trumpet trees. The ground was cool in the shade. I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I opened my eyes again, the light was golden and soft. Time had passed. Eventually, it was time to rinse off the salt and head to dinner. We walked the short path to the Bequia Beach Hotel. As we approached Bagatelle, we heard music—low, rhythmic, unpolished. A band was setting up on the open patio: guitars being tuned, a mic being tested, drumsticks tapping out little trials on a snare. Mojito · Wednesday 14 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 6400 · 1/80 sec XF27mmF2.8 R WR · 27 mm · f/2.8 The bartender greeted us warmly. The hotel, he said, was hosting a mixer. “Get to know your fellow travellers,” he smiled. “Drinks on you, hors d’oeuvres on us.” That sounded fair enough. I ordered a mojito, light on sugar, and we found a quiet table in the corner. The lights over the bar flickered on as the sun dipped lower, one by one. The band leaned into their first song—a slow reggae groove with just enough swing to make the palm fronds sway. The singer wore mirrored sunglasses, even as dusk settled. It was impossible not to relax. Cover Band · Wednesday 14 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 6400 · 1/80 sec XF27mmF2.8 R WR · 27 mm · f/2.8 Then came familiar faces—Brian, and the same couple from earlier in the day. We raised our glasses to each other and waved. Everyone looked more relaxed now, mellowed by sun and rum and music. The crowd was loose, the mood was easy. The kind of night where nobody watches the clock. Eventually, our dinner table was ready. I think I had curry conch with rice. Bhavna might have had grilled vegetables, but I don’t remember. I was on my second cocktail and too content to care. The food arrived slowly, which was fine. There was nowhere else to be. We ate, talked, listened to the band, and let the night carry us. I never did see the cuckoo again. I had hoped to—had carried my camera just in case—but the branches stayed quiet. Still, I didn’t mind. The day had been full: sweat, salt, fruit, and music. Sometimes the thing you’re chasing hides in the trees and vanishes before the shutter clicks. But other things find you—hidden lunches, quiet swims, and mojitos under trumpet trees. ### Like this: Like Loading... Food, Beer and Wine Lifestyle Bequia Bequia Beach Hotel Caribbean Travel Curry Conch Friendship Bay Iguana Island Life Lesser Antilles mojito Plum Trees Saint Vincent and the Grenadines Sugarapple Inn Terminalia catappa Travel Journal Windward Islands

A hidden lunch spot found through a local tip, and an evening of mojitos, music, and easy conversation under the almond trees.

#Bequia #Grenadines #CaribbeanTravel

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A Morning Walk Along Friendship Bay A quiet morning walk along Friendship Road in Bequia with empty beaches, wildflowers, hidden cottages, and two surprise bird sightings—including a lifer Mangrove Cuckoo.

A morning walk along Friendship Road in Bequia with empty beaches, wildflowers, hidden cottages, and two surprise bird sightings—including a lifer Mangrove Cuckoo.

#Bequia #Grenadines #Birding #Bananaquit #MangroveCuckoo #CaribbeanBirds #LesserAntilles #WindwardIslands #Birds

Original post on indieweb.social

A morning walk along Friendship Road in Bequia with empty beaches, wildflowers, hidden cottages, and two surprise bird sightings—including a lifer Mangrove Cuckoo.

#Bequia #Grenadines #Birding #Bananaquit #MangroveCuckoo #CaribbeanBirds #LesserAntilles #WindwardIslands #Birds […]

Starfruit, Mangoes, Goldenapples and Everyone’s Your Cousin? I went looking for birds and came back with starfruit, mangoes, golden apples, and the usual question—“Wait… you’re related to them too?”

I went looking for birds and came back with starfruit, mangoes, golden apples, and the usual question—“Wait… you’re related to them too?”

#Bequia #FriendshipBay #TropicalFruits #BequiaPlum ##Goldenapple #Starfruit #Mangoes #LesserAntilles #Grenadines #WindwardIslands #MorningWalk

Original post on indieweb.social

I went looking for birds and came back with starfruit, mangoes, golden apples, and the usual question—“Wait… you’re related to them too?”

#Bequia #FriendshipBay #TropicalFruits #BequiaPlum ##Goldenapple #Starfruit #Mangoes #LesserAntilles #Grenadines #WindwardIslands #MorningWalk […]

Ten Minutes With a Tropical Mockingbird - Island in the Net A Tropical Mockingbird doing what it does best—hunting, moving, and ignoring me entirely.

A Tropical Mockingbird doing what it does best—hunting, moving, and ignoring me entirely.

#Birds #Birding #TropicalMockingbird #CaribbeanBirds #SaintVincent #IslandBirds #Grenadines #BirdsOftheCaribbean

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Sapodilla, Cashew, and Breakfast A slow walk up the hillside for a simple breakfast.

A slow walk up the hillside for a simple breakfast.

#Bequia #SaintVincentAndTheGrenadines #Sapodilla #CashewApple #SugarappleHotel #LesserAntilles #WindwardIslands #Grenadines

St. Kitts and Nevis: Disaster averted as Coast Guard responds to MV ADDIE K distress call - WIC News The near drowning reportedly happened on Sunday, July 27, 2025, after the ADDIE K vessel ran aground off the coast between Sandy Point and Newton Ground.

Sea vessel drowning disaster averted as the #StKitts - #Nevis Defence Force - Coast Guard quickly sprang into action in response to a distress call they had received from an MV ADDIE K, a Ro-Ro/Passenger Ship sailing under the flag of #SaintVincent and the #Grenadines. wicnews.com/saint-kitts-...

Ten Minutes With a Tropical Mockingbird I hadn’t planned the morning. I just wanted to move, to do something with the early part of Monday while Bhavna was still asleep. I had gone to bed early the night before—around 8PM, which is rare for me in New Jersey. That gave me a head start. I left the cottage at 6AM with my Fuji X-T3 and the 150–600mm lens slung over my shoulder. The light was still gentle. The air hadn’t lost the coolness of night. Behind the cottage, the ground was damp with overnight dew. A pair of Zenaida Doves scratched quietly at the soil. A Tropical Mockingbird flitted along the old stone wall, pausing now and then to listen. High above, a Pale-vented Pigeon sat motionless on a electrical wire, half in shadow, keeping watch over the small birds below. I walked slowly. No sudden movements. It felt like I had been let in—not fully, but just enough. I spotted a Tropical Mockingbird on the lawn, staying low and alert. I stood still. It hopped, paused, tilted its head. Then it jabbed at the ground and came up with a small green caterpillar dangling from its beak. That detail mattered—not just for the photo, but for what it said about the bird’s focus. It was working. Feeding. Maybe preparing to return to a nest hidden somewhere nearby. Tropical Mockingbird (Mimus gilvus) · Monday 12 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 800 · 1/80 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 467.6 mm · f/7.1 Tropical Mockingbirds (Mimus gilvus) are common in this part of the Caribbean, especially in open or semi-open areas like roadsides, scrubby fields, and village gardens. They’re bold birds—confident, territorial, and unbothered by human activity. Unlike their northern cousins, they don’t mimic other species’ calls as often. Their own song is bright, varied, and piercing—less a performance and more a declaration. This one didn’t sing. It was too focused on breakfast. Their diet is mostly insects and fruits, and occasionally small lizards or eggs. On this morning, the mockingbird was busy picking through dry grass for caterpillars and beetles. I saw it strike the ground more than once. The movement was fast and precise. It knew what it was doing. I stayed low and started shooting. The light was soft and low, with just a hint of warmth creeping in. I waited for the Mockingbird to face the right way, watching how it adjusts its stance, deciding which frame gives the clearest story. The bird never once looked startled. Just alert, doing what it needed to do. Tropical Mockingbird (Mimus gilvus) · Monday 12 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 5000 · 1/250 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/8.0 At one point, it turned its back to me and I took the shot anyway. The tail feathers, the light, and the angle all worked. There’s a kind of grace in a creature not needing to perform. I liked that it didn’t care about me. It made the frame feel more honest. Later, reviewing the photos, I noticed how small the gestures were. A turn of the head. A slight bend in the legs. The caterpillar caught at just the right moment. Nothing dramatic happened. But I kept coming back to those frames because they didn’t feel like they were trying to impress. They felt like the bird was simply going about its day, and I happened to be paying attention. Tropical Mockingbirds defend their space fiercely. They are know to chase off larger birds and even the occasional human who gets too close to a nest. But this one didn’t seem concerned about me. It might have known I posed no threat. Or maybe it just had better things to do. I love mornings like this. The absence of rush. The permission to just watch. ### Like this: Like Loading... Birds Travel Wildlife Backyard BirdingBequiaBirdingBirding LiferBirds of the CaribbeanCaribbean BirdsIsland BirdsIsland WildlifeLesser AntillesMimus gilvusNature PhotographySaint VincentSaint Vincent and the GrenadinesTropical MockingbirdWildlife ObservationWindward Islands

a Tropical Mockingbird doing what it does best—hunting, moving, and ignoring me entirely.

#Birds #Birding #TropicalMockingbird #CaribbeanBirds #SaintVincent #IslandBirds #Grenadines #BirdsOftheCaribbean

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Sunday at Sugarapple A quiet Sunday with doves in the grass to rain on the bay—flamboyant trees, bitter melon, and barefoot walks threading the day together.

A quiet Sunday with doves in the grass to rain on the bay—flamboyant trees, bitter melon, and barefoot walks threading the day together.

#Bequia #SaintVincent #Grenadines #CaribbeanTravel #BeachCottage #LesserAntilles #SundayVibes

Sunday at Sugarapple Sunday started slow. The kind of quiet you only get when there’s nothing pushing at the edges of the day. I woke early and stepped out the back of our beach cottage. The air was still cool, the light pale and clean. The cottage sits amid a clearing of grass—part lawn, part scrub, a broader patch of dry grassland and lightly shaded trees. A few scattered palms reach just high enough to move with the morning breeze. The clearing is framed by a small house enclosed by a neat fence, a well-tended garden inside. Just east of it, a second house rests in contrast—unfenced, informal, almost blending into the open space between us. There’s no clear boundary between that dwelling, the grove of coconut palms, a few utility sheds, and the small boats propped in the grass nearby. Some of the boats sit under trees; others are tilted or partly covered with old tarps. The area feels practical, in motion—part homestead, part working yard. Further east still, Friendship Road curves into the shade of coastal vegetation. I would explore that another day. For now, I stood quietly in the back of the cottage and watched the birds. Doves. So many doves. Dozens. The back of the cottage was full of them. Some pecked at the sparse grass, others perched on the fence wires. I counted at least three kinds: Zenaida Dove (Zenaida aurita), Eared Dove (Zenaida auriculata), and Common Ground Dove (Columbina passerina). They moved with a calm order. The Zenaidas strutted and blinked. The ground doves flicked low between shadows, barely a flutter. A steady rhythm to their morning. Eared Dove (Zenaida auriculata) · Sunday 11 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 1250 · 1/80 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/8.0 Near the edge of the property, I noticed bitter melon vines (Momordica charantia), their jagged leaves curling through a chain-link fence. Yellow blossoms caught the morning light. One unripe fruit dangled low, still small and green. I hadn’t seen one in years. The kind of plant that hides in memory until it appears again in real life, right where you least expect it. Zenaida Dove (Zenaida aurita) · Sunday 11 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 640 · 1/80 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 600 mm · f/8.0 I went back inside and waited for Bhavna to wake. A little while later, as we left the cottage for breakfast, the breeze had picked up. I noticed a tidy crown of Manila palms (Adonidia merrillii) as we crossed the Bequia Beach Hotel property—dozens of them planted in regular rows, swaying slightly. They lined walkways and landscaped corners, anchoring the space between buildings and footpaths. Just beyond, in a slightly sloped corner near the main hotel pool, I spotted a sweetsop tree (Annona squamosa). Its broad leaves drooped with the weight of fruit—green, scaled globes. Near it stood a large mango tree, still heavy with unripe fruit. And just a few steps away, a cashew tree, unmistakable with its smooth, elliptical leaves and thick stemmed nuts beginning to form below the cashew apples. We followed the garden paths through the hotel grounds, heading toward the exit that leads to Friendship Road. But we didn’t go out to the road. Instead, we turned up a side track between fenced lots, passed through an old gate, and started up the cement path that leads to Sugarapple Inn. It’s not a long walk, but it’s steep. First a short incline, then a flight of stairs that runs past the pool. The path winds upward through scattered shade. On the way up, I stopped at the sweetsop tree again—this one growing on the sloped lawn of the Sugarapple Inn. I recognised it from the scent and shape. Below it, the grass was damp. A few fallen mangoes, unripe and split, lay on the slope. I noticed a few early cashews as well, hanging low on their stems. Something about that scene—the way the fruit trees shared space, their branches intermingled—felt familiar and ordinary in the best way. Near the walkway beside the verandah, a Tahitian gooseberry tree (Phyllanthus acidus) stood in full fruit. In Bequia, we call them “damsel.” The pale green berries hung in tight clusters along bare twigs. I reached up, plucked a few, and popped them into my mouth—sharp, tart, mouth-puckering. “I used to love these as a kid,” I told Bhavna. Some people pickled them in salt. Others made jam. I liked them either way. Tahitian Gooseberry Tree (Phyllanthus acidus) · Sunday 11 May 2025 Apple iPhone 16 Pro · ISO 100 · 1/1400 sec iPhone 16 Pro back triple camera 6.765mm f/1.78 · 6.76 mm · f/1.8 We reached the top of the path, where the wide verandah of the inn opens toward Friendship Bay. There, against the sun-warmed wall of the building, a climbing fig (Ficus pumila) had begun to creep up the stone, its tight leaves forming a dense green mosaic. I traced its shape with my eyes, watching where it split at the upper edge of the wall, curling in two directions. We paused a moment, then sat down for breakfast. View from the verandah of the Sugarapple · Sunday 11 May 2025 Apple iPhone 11 · ISO 32 · 1/5500 sec iPhone 11 back dual wide camera 4.25mm f/1.8 · 4.25 mm · f/1.8 The verandah overlooks the Bequia Beach Hotel and the curve of the bay beyond it. The flamboyant tree (Delonix regia) that stands beside the verandah wasn’t in full bloom yet, but red-orange blossoms had begun to open. Its long, dry seed pods hung like ornaments. While we ate, a Gray Kingbird (Tyrannus dominicensis) landed on one of the higher branches. It scanned the air with its sharp, slightly smug posture, flicked its tail, and held still. Watching us. Then it darted off toward the distant beach. Coffee came in a French press, strong and dark. I added eggs to the basic breakfast offering for ten extra dollars, mostly out of habit. The plate came with slices of coconut flour loaf—dense, soft, and perfectly toasted. I toasted it myself. Bhavna and I sat quietly, easing into the day. View of the hills from the verandah of the Sugarapple · Sunday 11 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 160 · 1/600 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 316.2 mm · f/7.1 As I sipped my coffee, a Zenaida Dove landed in the flamboyant tree, no more than a metre from where I sat. It tilted its head once, fluffed its feathers, and held my gaze for a few seconds. Then it turned and dropped into the branches below. We got to talking with Brian, an expat who had returned to St. Vincent after decades in the States. He spoke slowly, evenly. Said he missed the way things moved slower here. That, and knowing when to stop chasing. He introduced us to Michael, who runs private speedboat trips out to Mustique and the other Grenadine islands. Michael had that calm, weathered look of someone shaped by the sea. He didn’t need to tell his stories—they were written in how he carried himself. After breakfast, we called Curtice Taxi for a ride into Port Elizabeth. It didn’t hit us until we arrived at Knights Grocery that it was Mother’s Day—and a Sunday. The staff was already locking up. We begged for five more minutes, and they agreed. We rushed through the small store, grabbing bread, peanut butter, bottled water, rice, and dried pigeon peas. Enough to get by for a few days. The shop reminded me of the bodegas we used to visit in Corona, Queens, back when I lived with Mom, Shane, and Bruce in East Elmhurst in the late ’80s. Same quiet bustle, same quick decisions, same feeling of making do with what’s available. A group of tourists arrived just as the doors closed. I tried to explain in shaky French—“c’est fermé”—and they nodded, disappointed but understanding. There was something communal about it, all of us outside the shuttered shop, bags in hand, waiting for taxis under the hot midday sun. The ride back was quiet. I had leftover pizza from Mac’s for lunch. Bhavna and I lay still under the fan for a while, drifting in and out of sleep. It was that deep, loose kind of rest that only happens when you’ve already accepted the shape of the day. By mid-afternoon, the tide was out and the air had cooled slightly. We set out along the beach looking for a place called The Sand Bar. We went the wrong way at first—southwest, toward the rocky end of the bay, where reef stones break the shoreline. No bar. Just wind, shallow water, and a few birds picking through the shallows. Magnificent Frigatebird (Fregata magnificens) · Sunday 11 May 2025 FujiFilm X-T3 · ISO 160 · 1/950 sec XF150-600mmF5.6-8 R LM OIS WR · 179.1 mm · f/5.6 Above us, two magnificent frigatebirds circled high on rising thermals. Their long, angled wings caught the light as they soared—sharp silhouettes against the soft blue sky. I managed to catch a clean shot with my Fuji X-T3 as one passed low above the beach. We turned back, passed our cottage, and continued walking past the small boats pulled up on the shore. A simple wooden sign finally pointed us toward The Sand Bar. A few men were working on a boat nearby. “Just there,” one said, nodding around the bend. On the way, just as we reached the last boat, I saw a dove sitting alone on a fence—an African Collared-Dove (Streptopelia roseogrisea). Pale grey-pink body, thin black collar. Not a native. Likely an escapee. But it looked content enough, blinking slowly, tail feathers twitching in the breeze. We arrived at The Sand Bar. It was smaller than I expected. Tucked just above the beach, with a low roof, rafters, ceiling fans spinning lazily. Part of the Bequia Beach Hotel, it serves the nearby condos—some still under construction. We took the swinging chairs—wide wooden seats, thick ropes—and faced the water. Bhavna ordered a rum punch. I got a Friendship Fizz—cold, citrusy, with just enough bitterness to feel grown-up. We sat for a while, quiet, watching the water change colours as the light shifted. Then the rain came. No warning. No drizzle. Just a sudden, full downpour—fat drops slapping the sand, soaking the deck. We finished our drinks and walked back through it, laughing a little, shoes in hand. It was warm rain. We didn’t rush. By the time we reached the cottage, the storm had already passed. The sky was clearing again—soft blue pushing through the thinning grey. We changed out of our wet clothes and went for a swim. The sea had calmed. The beach was empty. The light was gold and low. Floating there, in water that barely moved, felt like rinsing off the day. Back at the cottage, we made rice and peas with the dried pigeon peas we’d picked up earlier. The kitchen was small, but it worked. We ate on the verandah with plates in our laps. Barefoot. Still damp. The last light dipped behind the hills and took the day with it. The day had moved through stillness, birds, sun, conversation, errands, rain, and back to calm. It never felt rushed. It just unfolded. ### Like this: Like Loading... Travel African Collared-DoveBeach CottageBequiaBequia Beach HotelEared DoveFriendship BayGrenadinesIsland LifeLesser AntillesSaint Vincent and the GrenadinesSugarapple InnVacation JournalWindward IslandsZenaida Dove

A quiet Sunday with doves in the grass to rain on the bay—flamboyant trees, bitter melon, and barefoot walks threading the day together.

#Bequia #SaintVincent #Grenadines #CaribbeanTravel #BeachCottage #LesserAntilles #SundayVibes

https://islandinthenet.com/sunday-at-sugarapple/

How to Have a Relaxed, Festive Vacation With a Baby in Tow

www.nytimes.com/2025/07/07/t...
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#Grenadines
#Bequia

Sugar Bird in the Bougainvillea A bright yellow Bananaquit greeted me on the veranda the morning of our big hike, singing boldly from the bougainvillea and leaving an outsized mark on the memory of the whole trip.

A bright yellow Bananaquit greeted me on the veranda the morning of our big hike, singing boldly from the bougainvillea and leaving an outsized mark on the memory of the whole trip.

#Birds #Bananaquit #IslandBirds #BirdsoftheCaribbean #TropicalBirds #LesserAntilles #Grenadines

Original post on indieweb.social

A bright yellow Bananaquit greeted me on the veranda the morning of our big hike, singing boldly from the bougainvillea and leaving an outsized mark on the memory of the whole trip.

#Birds #Bananaquit #IslandBirds #BirdsoftheCaribbean #TropicalBirds #LesserAntilles #Grenadines […]