Little Gasparilla Island, Florida: a Photojournal

Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart. – unknown

This was me all last week (below). Toes in sand, sun overhead, aquamarine waters stretched out as far as I could see.

Little Gasparilla Island, Florida

I spent a week on a small island south of Sarasota, Florida, for my boys’ spring break from school. When I planned it only weeks ago, I thought the island would be perfect, a way to get away from it all, a retreat. The island has no bridge, no stores, no restaurants — nothing but spread-out houses, sand, pristine water, a state park full of wildlife, and gazillions of shells.

We arrived by water taxi toting a week worth of food along with our other essentials. If my boys were worried about running out of food, I was even more nervous about getting it there — coolers, endless bags, enough to feed 3 teenage boys for the week — but we did it. It worked out. And truthfully, the week on Little Gasparilla was one of the most beautiful I’ve ever had.

The weather was dreamy: 75 – 85 every day, sunny, calm water. The sunsets were mesmerizing. And we even saw a manatee, who swam ever so slowly past my middle son as he stood on the sand bar. I am deeply grateful for the time there.

More than all of the aesthetics, though, the week was the retreat I needed. I’ve been going through probably the roughest patch of my life, and a beach, for me, is the place to begin to restore my soul.

So, enough words — on to the images, some of the favorite ones I took …