It’s always ourselves we find
In the sea.
E. E. Cummings
The first time I went to Pensacola, Florida, I fell in love.
I fell in love with the emerald water and its white sandy beaches.
I fell in love with the seashells, dolphins, and warm breeze.
I fell in love with the fresh seafood, the carefree people, and the bright-as-life villas.
The sand between my toes.
The Blue Angels flying overhead.
The mind-blowing view of water so vast that it makes my head spin trying to understand it.
I’ve visited Pensacola an uncountable amount of times, and no matter how many times I stare at that view, it takes my breath away.
Just takes it away.
I’m instantly inspired to be a better person and work harder when I’m there.
I become motivated to do things I never thought I could do. Exhibit A: Curiouser Editing.
My creative side blossoms, and I’m ready to take on the world with just one glance at the crystal-clear ocean.
It refreshes me.
And even when it’s bad—like a daunting thunderstorm looming overhead—it’s still good.
It’s amazing that just one place can have such an effect on one person.
I want to grow old there. I want to waste away reading a gigantic book on the beach.
I want to say good night to a moon and its bright reflection over the black waters.
The last time I visited Pensacola, Florida, I fell in love.
All over again.