The air is different. It is distinct. It’s hot and wet, with a subtle salty musk. Waves crashing on the rocks below create a loud but deeply soothing sound. Clouds overhang in the sky, harmless, puffy. The sun is slowly setting right in front of me. Little by little, the sky grows more orange, and the world seems to wind down. The tropical breeze from the trade winds seems to grab a hold of me as I stand on the porch. It surrounds me, comforts me. My hair dances around on the top of my head like the wind is running its fingers through it. I have the taste of saltwater in my mouth, and my eyes tingles with too much exposure. The sun beats its last rays of the day upon me, enough to warm someone coming out of the pool, but not too much that will cause you to burn. The Caribbean water on my body starts to dry, and in its wake it leaves trace amounts of salt. I proceed to walk down the wooden steps to the beach. They make a deep hollow thud as I go, and I can feel every grain of wood against my bare feet. Geckos scurry by, dodging me as if I was Godzilla. With every step, the noise of the beach grows louder; the noise of family on the porch grows weaker. I start to lose myself in the beauty of this place, in how absolutely incredible it is to be in Minneapolis, Minnesota and then 5 hours later be in the USVI’s, in paradise. I keep on thinking; keep meditating until I feel the sharp pinch of the rocky beach upon my foot. The top of the beach is filled with bits of dead coral, turned into calcium stone with the passing of time. Tiptoeing, avoiding the big ones, I carefully make my way to the water. The sand gets a little gentler, a little less rough, until I stand with my feet pressed into a picture perfect powder beach. I slow down my steps, let myself relax. There is no need to be rushed here. I slowly approach the outstretched waves. With every crash and break they come up trying to grab a hold of me. I come a little closer, and one does. Warm water surrounds my ankles and sinks me down into the sand. I stand there for a moment when another one comes in, doing the same thing, persuading me to come on in. with every step, I allow the sea to creep up my body, to completely devour me, as long as I am allowed to hold my head above. The water is magnificent. I gracefully swim myself out a little, treading water for a short time and then slowly come back in. Just an easy swim like this can wash away all the worries, all the stress, all of the things that wait for you back home. This is my place; this is St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands.
