That Night

I sat on this cliff in front of a thundering ocean, waves lapping up the vast shore. It was a foggy night and you couldn't see far, but you could hear the waves coming. There would be a huge rumble, and you would see the sea of white flowing out from the fog, floating towards the shore. It was beautiful and frightening at the same time. You couldn't see anything, but you knew there was this vast body of water in front of you, the water was cold and endless. Many a seafarers had taken a ride in such waters, some had perished, some had lived. Though you were sitting in the security of the shore, yet, you felt there was a mystic might in front of you, and it raised your heartbeat.

I would switch back and forth, between admiring the waves, to listening to their rumble, to thinking of ones that occupy my mind. I called a couple of people I could that night, so they could listen to the waters. At one point in time, I took my shoes and socks of to feel the earth, closed my eyes and listened. The earth felt soothing, chilly. Then watched the waters again.

I sat there for another while and walked backed to find my landmark of the two palm trees, where I had parked my car. A few foot steps and you couldn't hear anything anymore, the sea was away, the moment was gone, the heartbeat was normal.