The hotel is giving these out. Seems like there is only a couple of controls. I am tempted to try it out…

The hotel is giving out free kayaks. I need to venture out…

Henry David Thoreau was onto something.

There is something about watching dawn break before my own eyes that comes close to a spiritual experience. It is as much an awakening of the mind as it is of the day itself.

Back home, my ritual is simple. I pour myself a cup of coffee, sit quietly on the balcony, and watch the night slowly surrender. There is no urgency, no agenda. Just the patient unfolding of another day.

Here in Vanuatu, the experience is even more profound.

There is almost no trace of the artificial world. No streetlights. No passing traffic. No distant hum of civilization reminding you that someone, somewhere, is already rushing.

Instead, I am reminded of our days in Kalyani. My father and I would sit on the tiny balcony with endless cups of tea, watching the darkness. Hardly a word was exchanged. None was necessary. Silence has a language of its own. We were fluent in it.

This morning, sitting on the balcony over the water, I find myself in one of those rare moments again.

The sea gently but relentlessly crashes against the supporting posts beneath me, creating a rhythm that alternates between splashes and soft gurgles. From the nearby village comes a chorus of roosters, each one apparently convinced it has the exclusive responsibility of announcing the morning. Every now and then, a dog barks indignantly at something invisible to the rest of us.

The water itself never truly slept. Even in the darkness, its ceaseless ripples hint that life had carried on through the night. Nature does not punch a time clock. The tide, like time, bide for none.

A warm breeze drifts past, as gentle as the waves below. It brushes against my face with such tenderness that it creates the curious feeling of being completely alone, yet deeply accompanied. Surrounded by water, air, earth, and sky, solitude no longer feels like an isolation. It feels like belonging.

Even as I write, the darkness slowly begins to loosen its grip.

The sandy bottom beneath the crystal-clear water gradually comes into view. Shapes emerge where moments ago there was only shadow. Soon, I can discern the outlines of starfish resting motionless below, as if they had been patiently waiting for the light to reveal them.

By now, the birds have joined the morning in full-throated frenzy. Their songs overlap in an endless tapestry of calls, each species adding its own note to nature’s orchestra.

And yet, somehow, above all the sounds, the stillness remains.

A day has dawned.

And I was awake to it!!