I sit in the hot sand on the beach by my grandmother’s house, in Chile. The sand is soft and warm. I swirl it around with my fingers and toes, feeling its familiar and calming texture. My eyes open I see huge waves crashing into the shore. I see children stumbling over and jumping about in the waves, laughing. To my left, waves collide against the rocks and send large sprays of cold water into the air. I observe people around me, stray dogs playing and basking in the sun and vendors selling ice cream and candy. Eyes closed I hear seagulls crying, waves rolling into shore, people laughing and Spanish being spoken. I smell salt, sunscreen and warm summer air. Eyes open again; I squint and taste salty ocean water and sand. Smiling, I get up and run to the waves. As my legs make impact with the waves their power startles me and I gasp at its cold temperature. Facing the sun I take a deep breath. I smell the familiar smells, hear the sounds and taste the coast. Here, in this familiar place, I could stay forever.