I knew I was a candid person. I haven’t met that man yet.

There is this wonderful mystery behind happiness. You can’t really measure it or understand it until you have seen it at its purest form.

That man was one of these people that make you smile at how simple it can be. That makes you question your outlook on the world and inspires you to be as amazed as one can be.

When you are left out in the middle of Morocco, out and far from anything but dunes, water, openness and villages, you might meet this man.

I will call him the man with the yellow cape, or the man with the open heart or the man. This man is a Berber I met during an attempt at camping on a beach by the waves in January with no blankets or any equipment whatsoever. That’s what being young and wild minded is, isn’t it?! Ahhhh!

He walked toward us with his friend, as we were placing rocks around what would soon become our fire. We were worried he would chase us from his land; he was friendly and kind, he sold us fish, he told us to be careful, we were relieved; we maintained our crazy plan.

And the sky just went dark on that magical full moon night, as the man’s sight was peacefully and quietly staring at us, waiting for is generous friend to help us pick up wood for the fire and leaving as his friend stayed to save us from awkwardly cooking our fish.

Our fish fest was saved by a Berber fisherman.

Next morning as I was going to the beach to walk and feel like I was still dreaming, I came across the man with the yellow cape. He was just so beautiful in contrast with the richness of the dunes and the movement of the sea. He offered to show me a waterfall. Who would say no?

We picked up my friend, walked up and down as the sand was marked by our journey. And there it was; pure joy.

He gave me is wooden and perfectly carved walking cane and suggested me to play the ”old man” with it, as he was brilliantly smiling and laughing and playing; just playing with life. He showed us the way to the waterfall with such a joyful and lively way to walk; running and gamboling down the dunes. Like if I was watching a kid, like if I was watching the mirror of what I could still be growing up.

That man had a sparkle in his eyes just by being a witness of the nature surrounding him every day. I could see through is eyes that it felt new and that he was amazed as if he was seeing it for the first time:

The women going uphill with a donkey, the water being rare in the waterfall because they weren’t granted by a lot of rain, the gold purity of the dunes, the richness of the green, the dryness of the ground and the sadness and resignation toward the plastic and rubbish that were abandoned by other human beings.

On the way back he drew 3 figures on the sand with his cane, hoping for us to guess, laughing at his art and ideas, blinking at our reactions.

That day after moonlight I met a fisherman that was living by the beach and having exploration and fishing as a lifestyle. That fisherman was candid and beautiful to see. He was a reminder of how we can open our eyes and see the world, when we live in the rarest simplicity.

Thank you to the man that opened my heart.