The Ocean.
My happy place.
Where, in which, my soul and my body are in sync.
As I watch the gentle pull of the waves against the shoreline, I felt my heart tug - mimicking the infinite and graceful movement that I could watch endlessly.
It is the epitome of peace. However, the chaos within always remains unknown. The art of faking it; the water's done it for years.
Although the reflection of the light against the water may be a pleasing sight, you never know what goes on beneath the surface. There's always a bout of mystery lying underneath.
Whenever I look across the water, I feel a scratch of jealousy. How can Mother Nature tell such a beautiful lie with such grace? How can She - beyond any doubt - fabricate the turmoil underneath with what appears to be stars that have been condemned to float on the ocean waves for the rest of eternity? How is She able to produce such a convincing veil of serenity?
'But then again,' I thought as I looked at the sea with great longing - tentatively clutching my journal and clicking my pen in hand as the realisation hits me: Mother Nature is a whole other mystery of her own - and so am I.
