Yesterday, our last day in FdN, we went on a lovely hike through protected land to a tidepool, guided by an enchanting yoga teacher/scientist named Sylvia, whose class I hope I can one day take. She is excited about yoga and believes in the mystique of some big name yoga teachers. For the hour or so while we excitedly swapped yoga histories, memories which no longer hold sway for me, I wished I still believed in them too. When we arrived at the tidepools, I stayed ashore and hobbled through a delightful conversation with a sweet grandmother with an unfortunate name. Candida and I got to know each other through fragments of language, hand charades, and synecdoche. And I was happy.
I will miss this island.