The white sand beach stretches out from the mainland several miles, leaving the forested hills and mountains in the distance.
http://www.theorchidboutique.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/genericbeach.jpg
A lone cabana sites among the palm trees, yards from the beach, weather beaten, old, a remnant from a decades old resort, the rest of which has faded away.
http://cache2.allpostersimages.com/p/LRG/36/3628/6WXEF00Z/posters/sweeney-jane-wooden-beach-cabana-on-stilts-caye-caulker-belize.jpg
Carrying an old canvas bag, I start wiping away the dust and sand, opening the window to air it out. It feels safe, lonely, comfortable. The sun peaks in as it rises, warming the old painted wood, revealing and old cot in the bedroom, a broken mirror, old dishes and plates still on the counter.
Home.
I take fresh linen and place it on the scrubbed wooden table and the cot. It's not much, but it's enough for my escape. I plan on sleeping on the beach, despite the single cot, even during the stray storms. The stars are my companions here. The beach has enough room for friends to visit, to eat, drink and enjoy themselves.
A large sign at the beginning of the peninsula read in bright red letters.
"STAY OUT. FRIENDS ONLY. UNWANTED GUESTS ARE THROWN TO THE WOLVES."
Leaving my back, my cabana and my clothes, I step onto the hot sand and towards the waves, the sound so soothing. My toes touch the cool salt water, and with a rush of sea air, I close my eyes.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2388/5798582245_5939f80145.jpg
Home.
http://www.theorchidboutique.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/genericbeach.jpg
A lone cabana sites among the palm trees, yards from the beach, weather beaten, old, a remnant from a decades old resort, the rest of which has faded away.
http://cache2.allpostersimages.com/p/LRG/36/3628/6WXEF00Z/posters/sweeney-jane-wooden-beach-cabana-on-stilts-caye-caulker-belize.jpg
Carrying an old canvas bag, I start wiping away the dust and sand, opening the window to air it out. It feels safe, lonely, comfortable. The sun peaks in as it rises, warming the old painted wood, revealing and old cot in the bedroom, a broken mirror, old dishes and plates still on the counter.
Home.
I take fresh linen and place it on the scrubbed wooden table and the cot. It's not much, but it's enough for my escape. I plan on sleeping on the beach, despite the single cot, even during the stray storms. The stars are my companions here. The beach has enough room for friends to visit, to eat, drink and enjoy themselves.
A large sign at the beginning of the peninsula read in bright red letters.
"STAY OUT. FRIENDS ONLY. UNWANTED GUESTS ARE THROWN TO THE WOLVES."
Leaving my back, my cabana and my clothes, I step onto the hot sand and towards the waves, the sound so soothing. My toes touch the cool salt water, and with a rush of sea air, I close my eyes.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2388/5798582245_5939f80145.jpg
Home.