I am my most relaxed self, sitting alone admiring the vast ocean, with island curving both ends around me. I lose myself to nature. Secluded from city noise, nothing but the sound of crashing waves along the shore, and the seagulls sing their chant. I bring my hands to my side, feel the solid log I'm sitting on, and notice a small clump of slim, bright green stems growing out the trunk of the fallen tree. Only three leaves were left attached, dancing in sync, no power to move but kept a constant sway, twisting and flipping with the wind. Behind me an endless landscape of maple trees, sloping downward along the curves of the mountain side, the tips of their branches followed the dance.
I let out a deep breath, just as the waves perform a thundering crash, throwing white fists of water onto the shore, spewing water in the air, and finally breathing in, crawling back to the center ocean, gathering streams of water between the rocks. The light grey colored hills belong to islands far out sea, each creating a pattern in the horizon. A creeping fog approached, flying deeper along the coast, hugging the tops of the mountains. The wind picks up, tossing leaves off their branches, and the tide takes another deep breathe in. My eyes catch a small round rock to the right of my feet. I carefully bent down, and pinched the sides, bringing the stone to my eyes so I could look at it closer. I noticed it was smooth, like holding a plump, juicy, cherry tomato, and was all pure white, but had dark black spots on one side, like the shape of a broken T. I held the stone in my palm, rolling in around with my fingers, feeling it heat up like a kettle on boil.
Rocks crashing together in the distance, and laughter echoes off the mountains, I look up to see two people; dark figures in the distance, trying to find their balance over creaking stones and slippery logs. I stared as one of the figures bent to kneel at the ground, their head spinning around themselves as if it was looking for something.