I open my eyes to the vast, glorious sight of the ocean.
The seemingly impenetrable, endless blanket of water stretches on and on,
And the waves ripple in a calm, soothing motion.
The dimming sun gradually descends, painting the sky, not returning ’til the first light of dawn.
I hear the water, the waves, and the sound of incessant, tranquil crashing.
The birds are calling in their foreign dialect.
Even the wind breathes in my ear as I listen to the quiet splashing.
The soothing lullaby that urges me to put all my troubles behind, it is perfect.
As I sigh with satisfaction, filling my lungs, I take in a breath of the clean, crisp air.
I get a whiff of the distinct aroma of salt and sea,
And I can barely catch the scent of fish in the breeze.
There is absolutely nothing like it, here on my beach where I am free.
The tang of salt is on my tongue, in the air, everywhere.
As I plunge into the waves, I taste the coastal surf, sodium chloride, sand in the whirlwind of water.
Every breath, every gulp, every whiff, has a saliferous sapidity.
There’s no escaping the ever prominent taste of salt in the pungent air.
I feel the burning sand underneath my feet, between my toes, and even grinding in my teeth.
The cold water runs across my toes, luring me in as I stroll along the winding shore.
I can even feel what’s left of the sun shining on my face.
The beach, my beach, turns silent and dark, as the sun disappears with grace.