All of this space to be alone. Alone with the wind and the waves. Alone with the sand and the seascape. An expanse of raw wonders and peculiar secrets. And there I stand. The sea and the wind fade into one another along the horizon, like friends holding hands or enemies locked in battle.

There are days of serenity when the sea lulls and nods softly under the quiet touch of the wind. And there are days where we are nothing but a morsel of land.

In all this space, a dialogue emerges. Steady as it grows, silently. The scenery lends an ear, the briny air carries my intentions. The Islands and I, we are alone together. We are the anchor deep at sea. We play the wind in a unique melody, in welcoming notes true to this place.

I am the pair of eyes combing through the nooks and crannies, the winding paths stretching from one isle to the next, along the edge of the cliffs, the thread between the ground and the fall, the earth beneath my steps.

I am the pair of eyes - the sole witness, ever-present, of the environment surrounding me: the vastness of the sky, the crevasses, the wind that brings a taste of the outside world to my lips. This wind that seems to watch over me, enveloping me, carrying me to new homes with the promise of always bringing me back right here.

The Islands are always here, despite the changes and evolutions taking place all around. A haven where I find refuge, a friend reaching out with open arms. And that's why I love the Islands, my home.