Passionate,Powerful,Precious.

I remember standing on the white sand, gazing out across the clear, blue water and exhaling a salty-aired breath- a sigh of relief that we had finally arrived on Pansi Island. It was one of the most breath-taking places I had ever been, and a perfect place to take out my notepad, do some sketches and write down some thoughts. Looking out, and then down at my notepad, I thought to myself: How did I end up here?
A few hours earlier, after a day in the sweltering heat of Mozambique, my family and I took a walk down to the beach, hoping to dip our feet in the waves. We come across a man with a boat, and he offered us a ride to a “paradise”. After some consideration, we decided to go.
The boat was old, made of wet logs of wood and covered in beach sand. We squished on together, steering clear of the crabs at our feet- our lunch for when we arrived.
Holding on to the small, rusty boat, we gripped onto each other- hoping the paradise would be worth the bumpy journey there.
An hour or two passed, and we were assured that we would arrive soon. A moment swept by, and the skies began to rumble, the rain got harder and harder. The boat rocked and we held tightly onto the sides of the rustic planks of wood, our only shelter of protection. Sea water swished around our feet and the crabs seemed to be swimming around our knees.
We held our breath and closed our eyes and, before we knew it, the boat hit solid land. Our eyes opened and the sun was once again on our faces; we soaked up the warmth.
I circled the island on foot, picking up the best pansi shells on the way and squelched in the sand of the peaceful environment around me. The wind swept through my hair like the waves crashing on the shore at my feet and as I stared out at the gorgeous view of the Mozambique sea and hills, I couldn’t help but wonder- how did I end up here?