Finding My Own Path

A lone trawler drifts down the Intercoastal, its slow, steady movement mirroring my thoughts as I walk the shoreline. The tall grass whispers around me, and the path ahead seems to stretch forever, inviting me to keep going. It’s quiet here, but not empty—there’s a kind of clarity in the stillness. With each step, I feel the pull of possibility, the question of where my own path might lead. It’s not about the destination, but the choice to keep moving.