A couple years ago I went on a trip to Montego Bay, Jamaica. The one experience that I most enjoyed was parasailing with my mom. The crisp ocean air salty. The spray of the ocean cold and refreshing. We took off in a boat, speeding away towards the horizon. The men strapped us into our harness and before I knew it I was flying. I was soaring over the ocean. I could see the beach, the people looked miniscule in size. The ocean was glistening blue and green, the contours of the reef and rocks prevalent from my birds eye view. The wind was howling all around me, whipping my hair all around my face.
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