There are so many times when I’m down below in the boat scrubbing something or reading or whatever and I come outside, and the beauty of my surroundings floors me. It’s as if, for a short time, I forgot where I was, and I’m a bit shocked that I’m actually here, in my own version of paradise.
Or maybe I’m already outside but I’m preoccupied navigating the dinghy around coral to the beach, and then I have my head down digging out the dinghy anchor (it’s actually Carol in the photo) and when I look up I’m startled to see where I’ve landed. I have to stop for a second and process the glory of what is surrounding me.
We haven’t become accustomed to the beauty we are immersed in. We don’t take it for granted.
We stop and savor it, often multiple times per day. One of us is always pointing out something spectacular that perhaps the other person has missed.
The visual overload is so intense that sometimes I realize I haven’t noticed the other senses: the relaxing-yet-stimulating sound of the waves crashing on the reef, the smell of the flowers on shore, or the feel of the water or sand.
I. Love. This. Place.