There's a beautiful bay tucked away in a corner of the world, surrounded by impressive, rocky mountains.
My favourite walk, along a wide paved cliff path, looks out over a panoramic view of nothing but sea.
Protected by a sturdy barrier, it's a safe path for me, who without one, has become anxious and panicky from vertigo if I even glanced towards the edge (I have been known to get down on all fours, even on a seaside sand dune!)
Gazing out at the vast ocean, I'd avoid looking at the dizzying sheer drop, on to the rocks and waves, as if it would somehow be tempting fate. A fleeting, irrational, almost superstitious glimpse of doom, enough to cause a sharp intake of breath and an about turn back to safety.
In the past, I'd enjoy this daily walk to the next town and back before the daytime heat set in.
On this trip though, I was encouraged to take a higher path.
The houses at the top seemed so distant. It had never occurred to me to even consider going up there.
So up for the challenge one hot afternoon, off we went.
It was surprisingly possible to stroll, one step at a time, discovering an abundance of unfamiliar and beautiful sights.
Teenagers had often scrambled beyond the path onto rocky slopes, to make their names in hearts out of stones.
My photographs don't seem to capture what is breathtaking about nature. Whether it's tiny white buildings deep inside a valley, magnificent, dark, mountainous rocks towering above them, the alerted face of a small lizard peeping out of it's rocky dry home at strangers passing by, or speckled sunlight glinting between brilliantly coloured tree leaves, shading it's delicate flowers.
A snapshot photo of a moment like that for me is both irresistible and futile.
Enthused by our achievement, we later explored the high path west of the bay.
Approaching the top, we realised that a wonderful stillness and silence had surrounded us.
It was truly serene.
I knew that if I visualised that place, above the sprawling buildings, in the peaceful open sunlight, with sea and mountains in the distance and the purest sense of nothingness, I'd be able to recall that soothing moment of calm.
The path flattened out onto arid, dry, dusty ground, offering weary souls the space and time to just be.
I did go back on that favourite walk.
Somehow I now found myself able to lean comfortably on the barrier and watch the waves washing over the rocks without a care in the world.
I also tried Tai Chi in the open air.
Eyes closed, I breathed in that sense of calm, as my hands lifted and drifted in unison. Peace and harmony from outside in.
I experienced new treasures about a special place, that I wouldn't have if I'd remained in the comfort of my routine.
Discoveries made about myself.
Having not returned to yoga or any kind of class for a couple of years, I'm looking forward to trying some more Tai Chi now that I'm back home. A new class has coincidentally just started locally. Thank you universe!
No commitment, just to see if it might be a way to find some peace and moments of calm.
A Moodscope member.