Truth and beauty in Puerto Rico

Landing in San Juan on New Year’s Eve, I had underestimated how hot and humid the weather would feel against my winter sweater. Having flown from New York with my sister and her boyfriend, where snow and rain had previously showered us, the weather change was a real shock. I would begin the New Year in an environment foreign to me. We celebrated the New Year with champagne, heading to bed early, exhausted from our travels.
The first morning in San Juan, we headed down to the beach, passing by murals and street art adorning the surrounding area. Cars drove by, blasting music in Spanish in the early morning. Above, palm trees draped their arms over the street, providing shade against the sun’s rays.
Walking down the street, we could hear the rolling of waves approaching us. The waves, bright and clear reflected the hues from the sky. We spent the day relaxing by the water’s edge, soaking up the sunlight into our drained, winter-bitten skins. I drifted off to sleep, rays of sunlight poking through my straw hat onto my face as warm reminders of where I was.

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