Is it possible to exhale deeply?
Shoal Bay.
Bahamian turqoise water.
Tranquil inlet. Whitewater washing up against distant cliffs.
Too small for development, save for the local pizza shop.
Aussie accents so thick I could have sworn they were actors.
Five minutes away, dunes rise to touch stormy clouds.
Bluebottles lined a nearby beach, much to Victoria's horror.
A horde of teenagers interrupted our lunch in the cafe. They were quiet and polite.
Passionfruit ice cream and caramel milk shakes.
Potato wedges with chili dip and sour cream. Poured all over. I hate sour cream. It usually comes on the side. A deep disappointment.
A pelican, so cavalier, floats by not twenty feet away on crystal water.
Vegemite on toast at the breakfast buffet.
A balmy, insistent breeze greets us on our balcony in the morning, as we drink in that view.
A punt on the pokies at the local club. We're visitors so they allow us in.
Cloudy without rain. We wouldn't have changed a thing.
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