October 24, 1999 |
Whenever I'm having a bad day in front of my computer, I close my eyes and I'm standing thigh-deep in a crystal lagoon, once again feeding the neon-colored fish that swirl around my legs. When I'm stuck in traffic, I remember clapping my hands and watching little brown birds running out of the rain forest toward me. These were prime memories from a week I spent on Lord Howe Island in 1989, and, frankly, I've been afraid to go back ever since. Then, Lord Howe was a magical place.