I have a place where I can go, where the sound of silence is interrupted only by the buzzing of fish jaws munching on their coral lunch. Following the flow of the water, I pass giant white boulders and seaweed gardens, hovering above mauve coloured coral; bulbous mounds that resemble swollen brains. I get lost in this landscape of undulations and crevices, where, floating above fish homes, I feel like a guest – peering in, uninvited – more than I feel fear. Below me, and as far as I can see, are cities of rock and coral guarded by urchins of hypnotising beauty, with shiny black needles – porcupine pom-poms – protecting pearlescent blue beads.
From Thailand’s Quiet Island, by Claire