No One Can See Me...

No one can see me… The thought lingers as I stand alone on the shore, the first light of dawn spilling across the sky like a watercolor painting in motion. The world is quiet, and serene, with only the whisper of the ocean and the occasional cry of a distant Bermuda Longtail that nests along the island's limestone cliffs, breaking the silence. Bermuda, with its pink sand beaches and crystal-clear waters, feels like a secret world, hidden away from the rush of everyday life.

I wade into the water, the coolness wrapping around my ankles as I venture deeper. The ocean is a sheet of glass, every ripple, and wave etched in perfect clarity. I smile, memories flooding back of the many summers spent here with my siblings, our laughter echoing across the beach as we swam and played in these very waters.

This was our childhood paradise, the Bermudiana Beach Club, where the days seemed endless and the ocean was our playground. We would wake with the sun, rushing out to greet the day with a sense of adventure that only children possess. The pink sands were our canvas, where we built sandcastles, and collected a medley of seashells. The warm waters cradled us as we floated on the gentle waves.

As I walk along the shore, the sand soft beneath my feet, I can almost hear the echoes of those days, the distant sound of our voices carried on the breeze. We were fearless then, diving into the deep, azure waters without a second thought, the sun overhead warming our skin, the sea salt drying on our skin. We were free, untethered by the worries of the world, lost in the joy of simply being.

As the sun continues its ascent, the sky shifts from soft pastels to brilliant golds and pinks, reflecting off the water in a dazzling display. I pause, letting the gentle waves lap at my feet, the water so clear that I can see every grain of sand beneath the surface. I close my eyes, breathing in the salty air, the scent so familiar it feels like coming home. This beach, this place, is a part of me, woven into the fabric of my being. It is where I learned to swim, to love the ocean, to understand the power and beauty of nature.

I remember the first time I ventured out beyond the safety of the shallows, my heart pounding with both fear and excitement. My younger brother had dared me to go further, to swim out to the small reef that lay just beyond the breaking waves. I had hesitated, the deep water daunting, but the thrill of the challenge was too much to resist.

The swim had felt endless, every stroke taking me further from the safety of the shore, but there was no turning back. I had reached the reef, my arms aching, my breath coming in gasps, but the sight that greeted me was worth every moment of doubt. Beneath the surface, the coral bloomed in vibrant colors, fish of every shape and size weaving in and out of the nooks and crannies. It was a world all its own, alive with movement and color, and I was awestruck by its beauty.

That moment changed me, instilling a deep love for the ocean that has stayed with me ever since. Even now, as I stand here on this familiar shore, I can feel that same sense of wonder, that connection to something greater than myself.

I open my eyes, the sun now fully risen, its light casting long shadows across the sand. The beach is still empty, the only footprints in the sand are my own. It is a rare gift, this solitude, a chance to reconnect with the past, to remember who I was and who I have become.

As I continue my walk, I think of my siblings, who still reside on the island. Our lives are busy and full. We rarely find the time to come together, to revisit the places that shaped us. But in my heart, I carry the memories that bind us together no matter the distance.

I reach the end of the beach, where the limestone cliffs rise, their jagged edges softened by the morning light. This was our final destination on those long, sun-soaked days, where we’d climb to the top and sit, with our legs dangling over the edge. It was a place of quiet reflection.

Today, I climb the familiar path, slowly upward one step at a time hiking the six-story staircase that leads down to the beach. My steps are sure and steady, the climb more challenging now that I am older. At the top, I pause and gaze out at the vast ocean where the horizon blurs the line between sky and sea.

No one can see me here, but this time the thought is different and comforting. It is a moment just for me, a time to reflect on all that has been and all that is yet to come. The ocean, ever-constant and ever-changing, reminds me that life, like the waves, is in perpetual motion, moving forward even as it returns to familiar shores.

As I look out, the sun warm on my face, I feel a deep sense of peace, a connection to both the past and future. The moments of my childhood, of the days spent in this place, are not just memories—but are a foundation that has shaped the person I have become.

And so, as I rise to leave, I take one last look at the beach and I know that no matter where life takes me, this place will always be a part of me. The pink sands, the clear waters, the endless sky—they are a reminder of the beauty and joy that is found in this place I will always hold in my heart.

No one can see me, but I see everything. And that is enough.