A rambler finds the perfect island life and complains about it.

Lounging around on this little rock of an island I shouldn't have much to complain about. There's something gloomy about perfect sunny days, unrelenting tropical breezes, cold drinks and hammocks under a coconut tree. I mean besides the obvious cliche of this existence.

You need a little adversity to keep life interesting. A good sleet storm and a darkening sky, or a long week of gray rain. A dingy alley with a foul dumpster at the end of it. Shady characters lurking in the vestibules of mysterious and no doubt unwholesome businesses. If your whole life is smiling yellow suns and clean white sand than it is, sadly, impossible to appreciate.

In addition to adversity we need diversity, juxtaposition, contrast. This technicolor daydream of a home is driving me quite mad. It's limited palette of blues, greens and yellows flattens my world into a two dimensional daydream.

After much searching we've finally found the ultimate little island hideaway. We plan to return next weekend with food and beer and spend several days exploring, building fires, snorkeling for lobster and Robinson Crusoe-ing are way around this perfect little spot of sand and palm trees. It's the absolute wildness of the place, it's untamed and undeveloped. Perhaps we'll get caught in an awful rainstorm and trampled by goats. That might make me appreciate life a bit more.