Close your eyes, imagine the warmth of the sun on your skin.
Hear the whirr of your golf buggy floating through the air as you drive along the quiet residential roads of Harbour Island on Eleuthera Bahamas, lined with colourful houses, white picket fences, brightly painted churches and the occasional retro looking outdoor ice machine.
Seeking the ocean, you pull up to the top of a steep sandy ‘tree framed’ slope, a tunnel of palm trees that lead you down to the vast pink powdery sands of Eleuthera below.
With each step, a spectacularly sapphire blue ocean comes closer and closer into view, placing you into a hypnotic state, a tropical trance.
As you sink deeply into the sand below, your eye wanders from left to right, absorbing a picture perfect panoramic view, a vast expanse of beach that seems to go on for miles in both directions.
The purr of the ocean seems to call to you, the beach is empty, all yours.
An abandoned surf board stands upright in the far distance, at the bottom of a beach house, someone lives there – the beach is their backyard, the sea air is the first thing they inhale each morning and their blinds probably close to a heavenly sunset each evening.
The waves move eagerly against the Atlantic sea breeze, the horizon is full of wonder and possibility, while the beach provides a place to escape, to hide, to think, to be.