My heart is heavy leaving that spot.

Technically, I was trespassing on someone else’s property. But on an island that may cease to exist within a couple of decades, property rights are not what people seem to dwell on. Even the rickety stool was loaned to me by another long-term guest, Aziz.

And yet, that little corner became my Walden Pond.

I spent hours there, simply gazing at the horizon, completely lost in thought. Every now and then, one of the island’s friendly dogs would wander over, looking for a bit of company. Over cups of coffee, glasses of water, and the occasional glass of wine, I would make my way through another chapter of my book, only to close it again and sit in quiet reflection.

There was something profoundly humbling about that place. Standing on a tiny sliver of coral in the middle of the vast Pacific Ocean, I could not help but feel the complete insignificance of the self. And yet, that feeling was matched by an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I had somehow made it there at all.

I know I will probably never return. There are too many places left to explore, and life is too short to retrace every step.

Still, of everything I saw on this remarkable island, it is not the runway, the lagoon, or the endless ocean that will be indelibly etched in my memory. It is that quiet little corner by the water, where time slowed down, thoughts grew louder, and for a brief while, I felt completely at peace.