Fourth Journey Day 115: Between Sand and Horizon
The boat ride to Johnny Cay was like entering another world. As we left San Andrés behind, the sea stretched endlessly, shifting between shades of sapphire and turquoise. The waves rocked the boat, spraying cool mist into the air, a relief from the midday sun.
Arriving on the island, I was struck by its rugged beauty-white sand, swaying coconut palms, and water so clear I could see fish darting around the shallow reefs. I found a quiet spot near the shore, pulled out my sketchbook, and traced the jagged silhouettes of driftwood and coral fragments. The light was constantly shifting, playing tricks on the colors of the sea.
A local vendor walked by, selling fresh coconut water. I took a break, sipping the cool liquid while watching pelicans dive sharply into the waves. The sound of the ocean mixed with distant laughter and the rhythm of reggae music from a nearby hut.
As the afternoon wore on, I packed up my sketches and let my feet sink into the warm sand. The boat ride back felt different-as if I had absorbed the island's serenity. Johnny Cay had left its mark, and I knew tonight's collage would carry its hues.
