It was dark upon arrival on Langkawi. My checked-in backpack was slathered in oil. Ants had mysteriously infested our rental car and seemed to crawl in endless streams from its seams like a sequel to Hitchcock’s “The Birds”. My Malaysian friend drove into the jungle, without hesitation. We arrived on a pitch-black parking lot, entered a huge, empty hotel lobby, checked in, and hurried to get some sleep. I really had little idea where I had got to.

But morning came dressed differently, as it tends to do. Along with hundreds of singing birds and cicadas. And slow, soft waves rolling in. I practiced yoga at dawn. My friend went for a swim. I also found my way to the beach – the gorgeous, quiet, golden beach!

As I beach-combed this morning, looking for seashells, sea glass, and other interesting flotsam and jetsam for my beach jars collection, I realized, privileged, that I was on a paradise beach between a 10 million year-old rainforest and a large, possibly equally old coral reef. Under a warm sun, and above turquoise water, and on golden sands. One christmas, over a decade ago, there was a tsunami on this very beach. Today there is only tranquility. And I.(Langkawi, Malaysia; September 2016)