It was the beginning of Covid and I was stuck on my island.
As I was trying to establish a better routine, I would wake up earlier each time and learn how to cherish quiet mornings. It’s like a private moment you gift yourself where everything seems peaceful for a moment. In those early mornings, the lagoon that separates the french and the Dutch side of St Martin would sometimes be immobile as a mirror before the winds blow again. That’s when I capture this panorama.
I just love how clouds love to stick on top of islands. It’s like they travel and just come park here. It has something to do with humidity rising from land I know (it’s actually called orographic lifting), but I think it’s more poetic to imagine they choose to stick around for company. An island get formed over time as the result of a slow moving marine eruption where the tectonic giants collide. The french side is mostly eroded now and has less hills than the dutch side. Any mountain bold enough to rise above the ocean surface eventually sink to form an atoll. It’s just a matter of time.
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