The last time I set foot on the white sand of the Isle of Pines I took the photo that would one day grace the cover of Where the Waves Take Me, and now, looking at it again, I still don’t think you can find another view quite like it. The water here is an astonishing shade of turquoise and it’s exactly the right temperature. Lying flat on your back on the white sand, the palm trees filter the sunlight so that it dapples against your skin, and there is nothing except the sound of the waves and rustle of the wind through the trees.
There are times when this job delivers me paradise exactly when I need it the most.
The guests, you see, never make it past the first stretch of beach, so that stretch is always crowded and noisy. Me? I just keep walking.
And for the first time in weeks I feel the tension ease from my shoulders, and the gentle smile I can feel blossoming on my face is actually genuine, not clockwork driven as it has so often been.
And for the first time in weeks, I feel that I may actually survive this season.
Water rejuvenates, water heals, and truly the cure for anything is salt water….blood…sweat…tears
…or the sea….