From fine combed waves to the blue-white lace of the shore, the waves bring a beauty to the beach that etches in every heart that sees.
Waves come as finest strands of blue-green hair, infused with sunlit white. For these are the great locks of our goddess the sea, of she who breathes life into the world and keeps her steady shoreline beat.
The waves of sunlit skies or in the sweet velvet of night, pulse upon shore in steady rhythmic beat.
In the rise of the wind, dressed in well whipped brine, the waves have every appearance of enjoying both their crescendo and the anticipated diminuendo. For they are part of the music of nature, part of the ebb and flow.
Upon the shoreline, from the vantage point of the clifftop, the waves are as curtain folds above a golden stage.
The waves come as loving rascals, sun-warmed and sweet, to wash upon the sands. Perhaps that is why the children love to play in them so very much, the spirit of the sea and the children coming together in something we grown ups should have held on to.
Aaron watches the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand. His eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. Lucy moves closer so that he feels her presence, yet stays quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a while longer.
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