Today the waves seem to have more energy. Sitting closer to the edge to feel the water upon my feet, sometimes they'd soak my thighs, and my paper.
Too early for the sunset, but too late for the noon heat, the cool breeze erupt goosebumps out of my skin but the still up sun glares its rays directly to my skin, burning it.
And the waves play with me again, leaving droplets of water on my paper. I almost chide the playful surf but wild forces are these waves. They are as inattentive as a toddler. So I let them play.
Not a cloud in the sky except for the distant ones almost touching the horizon. The blue above is almost in equal shade until further down it turns lighter and lighter until it's green, then a large strip of foggy yellow, then a soft orange. And separating the sea and sky is a tinge of red.
The wish I had scratched on the stone was gone. But I hoped the sea had heard my plea.
Perhaps I was too early. The sun still slowly dipped. Its radiance proudly displayed, glaring into my eyes and glistening yellow amongst the choppy blue.
How does such a rough surface-an almost angry palette of blues and blacks and whites, jagged on by an angry painter- even thin into a perfect line in the horizon?
I scratch another wish on the wet slab hoping for the waves to swallow it and the wind to carry it Above.
The beautiful contrast of everything made me smile as the sun began to hide again. Soft blue above, ragged blue below and the yellows and oranges that sat buffer between the two. And that bright yellow sun casting its similarly colored glitter reflection on the choppy waters.
I forced myself to gaze directly at the dipping sun. I let it sear my vision, marveling at the process of its departure.
As soon as it was gone, I scooted a little closer to the edge, letting the water say goodbye to my feet.
