Where the path begins with clear water and quiet hills.
The journey began in Halfmoon Bay, where the water felt clean enough to wash the dust from my heart.
The journey began in Halfmoon Bay.
The air was unusually clear, and the color of the water seemed to rinse my thoughts clean.
At the end of the bay lay the Golden Bay Track — a path that looked easy at first,
yet each little hill revealed another, like the small climbs of life itself.
Between the forest and the sea, islands shimmered in the distance.
And far away, Stewart Island gleamed — an untouched world, pure and unspoiled.
As I walked, I whispered to myself, “This path feels like life.”
Later, I climbed to Observation Rock and simply sat, watching the sky and the sea.
I wondered what others might be thinking at this very hour —
and whether I would think the same if we shared the same stone bench.
In the end, I chose to stop thinking. I listened instead — to the wind, the birds, and my own breath.
In that silence, I found what I had been missing: the rest of the soul.
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