If waves could speak what would they say? The gentle lull of water lapping at your feet, slightly spraying a fine mist of salty water in your face. Your toes wedged into the soft sand, grains molded by years of erosion supporting your body.
If waves could speak would they tell you of the world you have yet to see? Of the shores that they have visited and the people’s feet who they have touched as well.
Standing serenely on the sand, surrounded by nothing yet everything at the same time. The waves have their own story to tell and if you stand just long enough and let the salty air tousle your hair and the sun shine its mighty rays on your face until it disappears into a rosy golden haze on the horizon perhaps — just perhaps you’ll hear a snippet of an adventure, a story of two lovers eloping on the beach, a weathered fisherman in the middle of the ocean, a child seeing the ocean for the first time.
If waves could speak, what would they tell you?
