Only once, I walked on the beach at night.

It was dark. There was barely enough light to let you see the beach and the reflection of the water. Water was just cool enough to make you hesitate a little before you put your feet in but warm enough that you feel very comfortable afterwards.

I walked along the beach.

Water carrying Florida’s fine sand came up to my toes, teased them then ran away before you could ever catch it. But then it came back, kissed my toes and ran away again.

There was no other sound than the ocean’s deep and compassionate voice. It was calling, “Come, come to me” over and over again. It was dark, unknown and kind of dangerous. But somehow it felt like somewhere familiar and comfortable. Somewhere I was Eons and Eons ago. It was undescriable but profound.

For the first time, I couldn’t help but desiring to lie down, let the ocean embrace me and swing me till I fall asleep like a child.