Two Full Moons in Paradise
When I arrived in Zipolite this year, I fell in love all over again.
I didn’t want to hear the bad stories people sometimes tell about beach towns. I only wanted to hear the good ones — about the waves, the sunsets, the slow rhythm of the days, and the feeling that somehow life becomes simpler beside the ocean.
And for a while, that’s exactly how it felt.
But paradise, like everywhere else in the world, has its yin and yang.
Beach towns are full of travelers passing through. Some arrive to celebrate life, others arrive because they are trying to escape something difficult. Sometimes people come here to heal.
This year I noticed how many stories quietly exist behind the scenes in a small place like this.
There was a neighbour who became very ill. Others stepped up to help when they could. It reminded me how fragile life can be and how communities often form in unexpected ways when someone needs support.
There have been big waves rolling in lately, shaking the shore and filling the air with that powerful ocean sound that makes you feel very small and very alive at the same time.
And then there were the full moons.
Two of them during my stay.
Anyone who spends time near the ocean knows that full moons seem to stir something in people. Sleep becomes lighter, emotions rise to the surface, and truths sometimes appear that were quietly hiding before.
I’ve stayed in this little place many times over the years. Each visit carries different memories.
One year I was here with my teenager.
Another year I spent hiding behind a curtain during the early days of COVID, afraid of getting sick before flying home.
Another time the place was filled with late-night partiers while I worried about work back in Canada.
Life stories pass through places like this the same way waves pass through the bay.
Some visitors celebrate.
Some struggle.
Some are searching for something they can’t quite name.
This year, for me, Zipolite was still paradise — but a more honest version of paradise.
Not perfect.
Just real.
And maybe that’s what makes it beautiful.
Because sometimes escaping to the ocean isn’t about finding a flawless place.
Sometimes it’s simply about finding a place where you can breathe again.
