I am on a tiny island just off a small archipelago in the Caribbean. I do not listen to music or watch television. The biggest event in the evening is dinner. At night, I reconnect with the sky, seeing thousands of stars because there are no lights. In the evening I read on the terrace overlooking, with a 180-degree view, miles of still ocean and a pink-sanded beach were eons ago the hourglass of time spilled its contents. The view coupled with the isolation is spiritual and I have reverence for the sky, the ocean, and the sun. The only two sounds are the rhythmic waves breaking on the shore and the song of the birds. The birds have an immense medley of thirty or so wobbles, squeak, whistles, beeps and songs. I am transfixed by the sounds of the birds and just listen to their song. In the background, the silver waves are a steady heartbeat. The cool breeze blows silently off the ocean and I breath deeply the fresh air. It is a calm and quiet peace.