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#WeAreBermuda

BERMUDA: LEAVE THE LIGHT ON

Written on 05/28/2017
Keeon Minors

A tall white lighthouse reigns over our resort of pink and blue. As we check in to our suite, I walk onto our balcony to inhale Bermuda’s breeze. I look to my right. There it is again, always looking over us. A constant reminder that Bermuda is alive. A heartbeat in the middle of the Atlantic, for all to see. At night it’s rhythm poured in through the parting of the balcony curtains, the soft light waxing and waning. Like watching your lover sleep next to you, their chest rising and falling, softly lulling you to sleep. The lighthouse has a story, an ode to an earlier time of discovery and adventure. I must go see it.















We leave on our excursion to Gibbs Hill Lighthouse, one of two lighthouses that oversee Bermuda. There is a path through trees and brush by our hotel. We follow the path. I walk slightly behind my wife, the lighthouse in the background. I am reminded again of the beauty of this moment. Her golden hair, the slight curve of her belly holding our daughter, that glorious smile of hers that always sneaks into my heart. We take our time on this stroll, each step reminding us of the renewal Bermuda has gifted us with.









The path meets the road and we hug the curb on the left. A sign comes up ahead: “Gibbs Hill Lighthouse”. We turn down this road for our last ascent, and the lighthouse then storms into view. At 245 feet above sea level, we enter the lighthouse. We climb up the 185 steps of this cast-iron beacon, and step into the historic breathtaking vista of the island and the Atlantic. At 354 feet above see level, we survey our time spent on the island. The resort. Our balcony. The beach. Our strolls. The view of the roads we took leading into Hamilton. Moments of laughter here, memories of wonder there. They say that airplanes can see the Gibbs Hill Lighthouse from over 100 miles away. As I stand here – looking at my wife, our child, the island – I see all that’s ahead for us.






The Gibbs Hill Lighthouse serves as a mile-marker of time in the middle of the Atlantic. Bermuda has left an imprint on our hearts. We forever look back to Bermuda as a mile-marker of peace, rest, and expectant joy. Merci!

À bientôt!

See original post at thefrenchnewyorker.com