A throwback to just a week and a half ago when my boots were traded for bare feet and an endless ocean horizon. There’s something magical about the sound of waves meeting the shore, a melody that stays with you long after you’ve left the beach. Till we meet again, dear ocean.

It was one of those spontaneous decisions that only summer can inspire. The city was buzzing with its usual rhythm, but I craved something different, something that would remind me of the simpler joys of life. So, I packed a small bag, left my boots by the door, and set off for the coast. The ocean had been calling me for weeks, its siren song growing louder with each passing day. I could almost hear it in the distance, beckoning me to leave behind the routine and immerse myself in its embrace.

When I arrived at the beach, the world seemed to melt away. The air was thick with salt and the promise of adventure. I kicked off my shoes and let my toes sink into the warm sand, the grains slipping between my toes like a gentle caress. The horizon stretched out before me, an endless expanse of blue meeting blue, where the sky kissed the sea in a line so perfect it seemed almost unreal.

For hours, I wandered along the shoreline, the cool waves lapping at my ankles. Each step felt like a return to something primal, something deeply rooted in the human spirit. There’s a certain freedom in baring your feet to the earth, in feeling the rawness of nature beneath you. The ocean, with its infinite wisdom, seemed to understand this instinctively. It welcomed me without question, its waves dancing around my legs as if greeting an old friend.

I spent the days in a blissful routine of doing nothing and everything all at once. Mornings were for long walks along the beach, where I collected seashells and let my thoughts drift with the tide. Afternoons were spent lounging under the sun, a book in one hand and a cool drink in the other. The sound of the waves became my constant companion, a soothing lullaby that eased away any worries or cares. I even ventured into the water, letting the ocean cradle me in its arms as I floated on the surface, staring up at the vast, open sky.

As the sun dipped below the horizon each evening, the sky would burst into flames of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the water. It was in these moments, standing at the water’s edge with the waves gently crashing at my feet, that I felt most alive. The ocean’s melody, a mix of the wind’s whispers and the sea’s roar, played in perfect harmony, creating a soundtrack that resonated deep within me.

Now, back in the city, the memory of those days lingers like a sweet aftertaste. My boots have reclaimed their place, but I can still feel the sand beneath my feet, still hear the ocean’s song in the quiet moments. The beach may be miles away, but its essence remains with me, a reminder of the freedom and peace I found there.

Till we meet again, dear ocean. I know I’ll return to you, for your melody is one I can’t help but follow, no matter how far I roam.