Fuchsia and Teal trinkets scattered on a blinding white forgotten beach. The topaz waters stretch and curl and fall into the smooth sandy shore, each wave a freshly opened can of soda, crack, hiss, gurgle. I kneel down into the fine powdery white sand, and pick one up. Soft, textured little shattered fragments, worn and tumbled into frosted gems by the earth. The salty smell of the infinite blue waters hints of exotic flowers and plants, an alien perfume shop. I can taste the clean unfamiliar environment, the heat, the wild tropical fruit. I walk along the shore, sea glass in hand, my new souvenir from this beautiful virgin area of the world.