The Colours Of The Seashore

The sun shone brightly – oh, so brightly – from a cobalt blue sky. It felt like a late spring day, but it wasn’t. This was February. This was winter. I sighed as I rolled down the car window and the warm, sultry air caressed my face. I needed to re-charge, so we drove to a rocky beach that we do not frequent very often. It was deserted, except for one solitary fisherman casting his line, a diver and an older, foreign couple soaking up the sun. The air felt tangy, full of sea and salt.

We walked to the water’s edge. The sea sashayed at our feet, its surface shimmering in the unrelenting sunlight. Never at rest, it sighed and gurgled as it playfully embraced the rocks and shoreline.

Its hues were as flamboyant as ever – a palette of blues and greens, married together to create the aquas and turquoises that make my soul smile.

It took a lot of effort but I finally managed to tear my eyes away, and let my gaze linger on the seemingly unimportant things.

Like the limestone bleached to an almost-white;

a perfectly round rock-pool lined with brilliant green moss;

shy little creatures peeking from nooks;

the shells of a thousand summers ago.

We have so little here but that makes me appreciate the abundance of simple things so much more. I feel a deep-seated joy when I seek and find beauty where others might find none. I looked back at the sea – at its clarity, at its mysterious depths, noting its innocent playfulness.

Tomorrow its colours could change, its mood could swing to a roaring insanity. Tomorrow it could all be so different.

Location: Bahar ic-Caghaq, February 2014