Out into the wild we go, past the sea, and up the hill, and into the long, tall grass.

 We go where the breezes blow the butterflies as delicate as glass. 

Up and up, up we go. We go where the breezes blow and ripple the sea of grass.

Up the trail the burros know, up and up and up we go to reach the top at last.

  
Wilderness is the northernmost tip of the island of Saint Martin. The treacherous reef hiding beneath the breakers tempts only the most daring surfers, and the grassy hills call to those disenchanted by the crowded streets of the cities. Wilderness is a poetic place– it inspires the pens of writers and the brushes of painters. For a day free of the bustle of life, come to the northern hills and listen to the song of the sea.