There is something soothing about the way the ocean whistles when the weather is wild. The power of water and weather combines, and suddenly, it’s as if everything is connected. The thing is though, it is. I pick up a shell, my finger tips settling into the sand, and somehow all of these little things have built up to everything. I close my eyes and listen, breathe it all in. I’m very aware of the rose quartz bangle on my wrist, hoping the powerful energy of the waves will connect with this soft pink stone.
I haven’t been to the beach in ages, I’m wrapped up in about 45 layers and a pair of wellies, dreaming about what lies beyond the horizon, and of course the bag of chips I’m going to get later. None of it is very glamorous, but it’s not supposed to be. From the rugged landscape, to the seaweed, it’s all so raw, so vast. Surely that’s why it’s a place that everybody loves so much – You can be on a beach with hundreds of people, all watching one horizon from various angles, stretched across miles, and your hearts are all being dragged to different places. Your to-do lists are varied, your perspectives and priorities unique. Yet you’re all here, looking for answers from a roaring tide.
I always prefer the beach at night time. When the voices are absent from the sand, these answers that we’re looking for get louder. Then we dust the sand off our shoes, climb back into the car, eat the chips, and head back to the noise of our every day lives. Meanwhile, the tide continues, the moonlight dances on each crashing flow, and the stars are scattered across this never-ending everything.
