There are days, I just need to get the creative writing out of my head Cuba isn’t just about sun-drenched beaches and turquoise waters—sometimes, the island wears a wilder, more dramatic face. On a windy and cloudy day, the rhythm of life in Cuba shifts ever so slightly, but the island’s magic is no less powerful.
The skies are a swirling canvas of gray and silver, with fast-moving clouds racing across the horizon. The breeze picks up strength as it sweeps through Cayo Coco, rustling palm fronds and tugging at hats and sarongs. There are less people at the pool and even less at the ocean where I am standing. The scent of sea salt lingers in the air, carried inland from a restless, churning sea. Although, I want to jump in and do some body surfing, I see the red flag. My thoughts wander with the winds as my sailing will not occur today.
The resort staff laugh, duck, and keep walking—it’s all part of the charm. Despite the clouds, there’s a unique beauty to the light; it softens the vibrant colors of the buildings, giving them an almost cinematic glow. Why I left my camera in my room is not a mystery as you can’t take one when you sail.
It’s a perfect day to explore the cozy cafés, linger over a cup of Cuban coffee or favorite iced coffee in the snack bar. And when the wind howls through or flutters the Cuban flags above the resort building, you’re reminded that this island is alive—untamed, proud, and always full of surprises. It’s the kind of day that feels charged, as if a storm might roll in—or just pass by in a dramatic show of Caribbean weather.
I head to the buffet, while debating if I should have taken the umbrella. However, I am not sugar so I won’t melt., also I am already wet. I had breakfast with Keilee and Deanna. Keilee got someone to cover work for her, I know she was quite concerned about it.
I spent about 45 minutes with Amanda and Joe at the pool. we were speaking about their kitchen renovations, children, and the best take outs in their area. They are very different from one another, but really seem to click together.
I spent the rest of the day reading outside covered in sunscreen and in the partial shade, lamenting that I hadn’t read so many easy reading books. I was always reading towards the end goal of helping my clients grow to become their best selves.
My thoughts continue as my brain relaxes itself. When the storm passes, a hush settles over the world — not just silence, but a profound stillness, as though nature itself is holding its breath. The wind no longer howls; it exhales. Trees, once whipped and bent, now stand quietly dripping with rain, their leaves trembling with leftover energy.
The calm after a storm is not just the absence of violence — it is a gift. It is the space where healing begins, where reflection grows, where resilience takes root. It reminds us all turmoil eventually passes, and in its wake, there is always the possibility of renewal. Good night and may sleep start the renewal process for another day.
