My Island of Zen

by Micaela Rodriguez Steube (9)

The pebbles dance under my shoes, crunching and scrunching as I make my way through the rows of vines. As I look up, the most beautiful sight in the world meets my eyes — the sight of my family’s vineyard. Satisfyingly straight rows of grapevines roll on and on in a succession that stretches as far as the eye can see. The ocean of wine grapes sends waves of tranquility through my body. Starting at my head and flowing down through my shoulders, through my torso, my hands, and my legs, all the way down into my toes. I stop a moment to take it all in. I take a breath, filling my lungs with the soft breeze that’s passing by. Inhale, exhale. This is peace. After a bit of walking, I reach the most sacred area of my paradise –– the hidden cement gully. Engulfed in a canopy of grapes, the gully conceals itself and is only known to a select few. When I stand inside, the world around me stops. No stress, no social media, no judgment of others. I am at peace. I reach high above my head and pick off a singular grape and pop it in my mouth. As I break the bitter skin, sweet juice is released throughout my mouth, a yin-yang of sweet and sour. The flesh of the grape balances the texture of the skin. Finally, it glides down my throat, through my esophagus and into my stomach. Once again, I breathe it all in. Inhale, exhale. My world is at peace.