Description
The evening light fades, and the ocean turns to glass. As I walked along the white sand of Tumon Bay, the warmth of the Pacific at my feet, I caught sight of a fleeting moment. Two outrigger canoes slicing through the still water, paddlers locked in rhythm, racing the last light of day.
The horizon burned gold where the sun slipped through a break in the clouds, casting the racers in silhouette against a sky of fire and deepening blue. The world felt suspended, time held in the pull of the tide, the steady strokes of those who chase the water.
A reminder that some races are about more than just winning, they’re about the beauty of motion, the pursuit itself, and the quiet witness of those who pause to see it.