At the Ventura Harbor Village, flocks of tourists pick through shops selling clunking bamboo chimes and fish-shaped ice cream cones. On the opposite side of Spinnaker Drive, surfers bob on the ocean’s surface waiting for the perfect set. However, a third unseen group gathers along Spinnaker floating, eating and soaking up this seaside retreat. Just 400 yards from popular beach Surfer’s Knoll sits the Santa Clara River Estuary, a nature preserve where almost 280 species of birds have been observed.

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The air is thick with diesel fumes, alluring spices, soot, dust, and the occasional whiff of something nebulously pungent. Any thoughts, cares, or concerns that I may have had regarding this journey across the globe are shoved to the back of my being as car horns, the melodic caterwauling of Nepali music, and police whistles jab their way in. It is the morning of our first day in Nepal and tomorrow is Diwali, the Hindu Festival of Lights. A celebration lasting five days, Diwali triumphs good over evil, light over dark—it is the biggest celebration of the year, and I'm invited to the party.

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Jamaica often inspires images of rum drinking and calypso music, but beyond the cerulean sea and the legions of palm trees, on the northwest corner of the island, sits Rockingham Estate; a hilltop farmer’s paradise of fruit bearing trees, beautiful vistas and natural serenity. Here images are actual memories passed between two living generations of the Charles Buchanan family; images of over 112 years of life in a simpler, more natural state of being.

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