A Night on the Beach

The cool, night air of autumn embraces you, your skin and hair brushed by the soft, yet roaring winds of the sea. The ever-present sound of the ocean surrounds you in a sonorous harmony as the waves batter against the shore.

Treading down the slope of feather-like sand, you make your way to the water. The foam is strong, and the waves stronger, arching high and crashing. The tide, somewhere between low and high, goes back and forth, begging your feet forward. You answer the call, ushering toward the water. You stand there, calm, still, yet a bit tense, as you await the inexorable rush of water over your feet and past your ankles. When it hits, it is not the frigid ice pick which you feared, but a cool and soothing blanket if wetness, tempting you further. You go – you go, the water encasing your lower legs as a wave crashes against the lower front end of your torso, dampening your night shirt. The new found wetness on your shirt disappoints you, but only for a moment, as you have neither the time nor desire to distress.

After deciding you’ve had enough of the water, at least for the time being, you depart and make your way to a site on the sand where you’d previously place your belongings. Taking out a towel, you lay it down, placing another behind it to act as a pillow. As you lay down, you position the second towel to properly and comfortably support your cranium. As you look up, the night sky is beautiful. A mix of dark blue and black hues line the sky, stars and constellations dotting it gracefully. As you admire the astronomical wonder that rests above you, a white object soars by. A UFO? No — a seagull. Then, more, as many seagulls fly towards the south and east, perhaps heading home after a midnight feast on unsuspecting sea life. Just as you do the stars lining the sky, you admire the magnificence of nature which flies above. While all of this is happening, you have your hands behind your head, playing with the sand, cool and soft as if play sand advertised on television.

An abundance of time has passed when you finally get up. Grabbing your camera, you head down to find out the tide has risen — greatly.  You ponder briefly the work of celestial objects before heading back to your “spot”. Adjusting your camera’s settings, your prepare to capture images otherwise hidden to the naked eye. The lens of your camera exposes itself to the night for thirty seconds, capturing every detail before it throughout that minuscule, yet large, time frame. You view your result, perhaps satisfied, perhaps not. Regardless, you continue the process many times in a plethora of positions and locations. In each image can be observed the cream colored sand, white foam of the dark blue sea, and sky ranging from the blue of the sea to a soft lavender, scattered with dots of white.

You begin to chill. It is not considerably cold out, but the cool of the strong ocean breeze and your damp attire are enough to say it’s time to go. Reluctantly, you answer your body’s call. While you wish you could stay, you take solace in the fact you got to experience such a beautiful night and capture it not just within your camera, but within your memory.