I lay on the beach, letting the sand squish between my toes. The heat of the sun clothes my nearly naked body. Every inch of my skin cries out for a cool breeze, and the wind answers promptly. I close my eyes for a moment, allowing my hair to wave and fly about my face. I look up at the expanse of blue sky above my head. Open and empty above a crowded beach, watching me, protecting me. I see the smooth seam where sky meets water. The ocean twirls and dances, foaming and subsiding, foaming and subsiding. The waves, with white fluffy tips, clouds of the sea. I watch the waves, like fingernails forever drumming on a table of water, seeming to disturb, but simply producing the natural waves of life. The rhythm is constant, each time washing in debris, slowly purifying the waters. I see people bobbing up and down, children playing, sailboats floating, but the ocean rolls on, foaming and subsiding, foaming and subsiding. The people leave, the sun ducks under the ocean's edge. The moon shyly awakes and ventures into the world, but the ocean doesn't stop. It stays, foaming and subsiding, foaming and subsiding. I get on my bike, riding away, knowing that the beach is becoming nothing more than a small dot in the distance, a place I once was. Riding away, feeling the wind in my face, knowing that the ocean is behind me, still foaming and subsiding, foaming and subsiding.