3 years ago, I missed a flight-by choice.
I would wake up, walk about 5 miles and some into a secluded cove before I would end up on this very spot everyday for a week. Everything was so quiet as if the world stopped for a while. It was so serene it was hard to not go back I ended up not going to the airport after 'one last sunrise'. I'd left a job behind, there was a scare for a minute as I stared into the vast openness, then peace struck. I would not take my phone, all i had was a book, a flask of hot coffee and a journal in my little satchel, maybe a few pesos. I'd sometimes write, sometimes doodle, sometimes draw. I took this picture the day I left.
I had nothing that I wanted, yet those few hours every morning, I had everything I needed.
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