While I’ve never done anything to be arrested for on a tropical island, it does happen. (I have been given a ride back to my hotel by the Chief of Police on Jost van Dyke, but only because I was walking the road ‘home’ late at night by myself.) I’ve often wondered if it would be worse to be jailed in a lovely tropical place than to be imprisoned in someplace flat and soulless, like Florence, Colorado, home to one of our nation’s SuperMax prisons. I think it would be unbearable to see the beauty of an island through the bars of a jail cell. But at least you would see that beauty.

This prison, obviously, can hold nothing now but memories within its crumbling walls.

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Great Exuma, Bahamas.

Quote of the day: “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” — Rachel Carson

Daily gratitudes:
The giant pale moon sinking behind the mountains this morning
The green of tulip leaves sprouting along the edge of my fence
Fathers talking to tiny babies in strollers
Feeling sleek in all black today
When Mr. Man hide under the comforter
Third-eye kisses