Night had wrapped its arms around the island, and I stood there with my toes in the sand, watching as the moon painted everything in silver. The waves glistened, each one rolling in like it held a little secret. There was something ancient in the air, and I felt it – a pulse that tied me right into the heartbeat of that land.

It brought me back to a strange dream I had in Barcelona. I’d been in some small seaside room, dozing after a big bocadillo with cheese, when I suddenly felt myself slipping up and out, floating right toward the door. My body was still on the bed, but I was somewhere else entirely. I almost kept going, just to see what was out there – but something pulled me back.

Back on that shore, I felt that same sense of wonder, that reminder of how thin the line is between worlds, how we’re always part of something bigger. That night, as the waves and I kept time together, I thought, maybe life’s just like that – rolling in and out, connecting us to things far beyond ourselves, and always bringing us home again.