The incessant churning of the Atlantic’s waves conjures a briny cloud of humidity that asphyxiates any mal-intentioned who dare step foot on her black sanded shores. The sun’s rampant rays dare these mere mortals to approach her archipelago. Bermuda is a fierce goddess, inhabiting an island rainforest brim-full of mystery and promise. Her disastrous gaze strikes both fear and wonder into the hearts of those who would underestimate her. In her periphery, jagged cliffs shield her from the ocean’s unending assault. She’s a spirited one, Bermuda, ever the obtuse one of among her island siblings. She does not seek to destroy of course, but that’s her only option when a willful soul exacts its deception. Thousands flock to her valleys, undeterred by centuries record of her unquenchable appetite. Each visitor’s heart is a prism, through which Bermuda can see life, death, good and evil. Little is known about how exactly Bermuda acts on this perceived malevolence, but the knowledgeable few doth not attempt to test her discretion. Be it downed seaplane or sunken cedar pirate ship, Bermuda’s destruction is evident on the nearby ocean floor. Whether their intention be ecological decimation or gravely illicit activity, no potential bad-doer could evade Bermudas discernment. Bermuda’s jungle is inhabited by ancient castaways. Her inhabitants are sheathed in lustrous obsidian skin that gives clues to their original point of origin — and to their potential destination. These were west Africans, an Ivory Coast people who’d been vehemently denied their domestic right. Bermuda had sensed the demented souls of their American captors as their buoyant vessels of aqueous imprisonment sailed near her triangle. She erupted in a storm more furious than any that had been seen before, violent winds and torrential rains threatening the very lifeblood of the decrepit captors. Bermuda then opened her lands as sanctuary for the distraught captees, promising good fortune and eternal protection from those who sought to enslave them. If you ever have the inkling to visit Bermuda, be sure your soul is free of contempt and your conscience anchored in benevolence — her door is always open.