Second Letter

We arrived at our new home in Pedasi, Panama, on the Azuero Peninsula on April 17, 2026. It was that magical hour in the early evening when everything is bathed in a soft, golden glow. The front gate stood open, so we drove in quietly, not wanting to disturb a soul. We walked down the stone lane lined with palms and lush flora, accompanied by the sounds of tropical birds and the steady rhythm of Pacific Ocean waves crashing along the shore. José, our Spanish landlord, was waiting at the front door and welcomed us inside.

The house is even more beautiful than we remembered. The entrance feels open and inviting, framed by two large planters with ficus trees. The front door—a thick, double glass French door—floods the home with light and fresh air when opened. Built in 2020 by a French builder, the house has thick plaster walls and wide glass doors that lead onto covered, tiled verandas. From both the first and second floors, the ocean is always in view. We find ourselves simply sitting on the sofas or out on the back verandas, watching the deep green-blue waves roll in and break against the sandy shore. We truly feel like we are in heaven.

After dropping our luggage on the tile floor that first evening, we headed straight for the beach. Destiladeros Beach is one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen, with its striking offshore quartz rock formations, sweeping sands, and crystal-clear, deep aqua water streaked with luminous white waves. The Pacific feels vast and powerful. Tom and I walked along the nearly empty shoreline, where we were greeted by brilliantly colored crabs—orange, red, and green—that scuttled across the sand and froze in place as I stepped closer to photograph them. We watched the sun slowly sink, the sky shifting in color, until everything grew still and the world seemed to melt into silence. 

With Love, 

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