I sit on a rocky hill. The dried moss of late summer adorns the firm surface beneath me, and it subtly scratches my skin. I pick up a twig and fiddle with it, while my gaze wanders over the trees and the sea and takes in the large and minuscule details of the world around me. The sun dances across the water, and my body feels more here, somehow. I didn’t know I wasn’t here, but wow, now I am here.