First comes the sand, smouldering and getting hotter under the sun. It looks soft and welcoming, until my bare feet leave the wooden walkway for its baking surface. Hopping from one foot to the other, seeking sanctuary in each patch of shade, I skip down to the shore, to bury my burning toes in the ice-blue waters.
The first lap of the foam brings relief. The cold pierces my skin and numbs my feet. I shiver.
I was desperate to leave the desert-like heat of the sand, but now I lingers at the edge, my toes creating gaps in the foam. The waves come and go, digging my feet deeper into the sand. I know I have to make a decision.
The sun glints off a wave and I knows what I want to do. On I plunge, each step surer than the last. I am no longer afraid of the cold, in fact I relish the spray like shards of ice on my skin, the tug of the current on my legs, the cold creeping from my calves, to my knees, to my thighs.
Perhaps I'll wait for a moment as the water reaches my waist, but then I sees the wave. It is nearly upon me, rising, growing, raising itself above my head, about to break.
"Never show the waves you're frightened", father's voice echoes in my head.
I jumps into the blue wall and out the other side, my ears singing with the cold, a jubilant beat in my heart, water pouring from my hair and face. I am rewarded by the still and calm beyond the breakers, the ebb and flow of the waves as they lift and drop me high above the sunbathers on the beach and back again into the quiet valleys of the sea. Now I wait.
Time goes by, but it follows a different rhythm, the steady tick, tock of land replaced by the swish of the sea, the wind in my face and the burning sun on my back. Then I can feel it coming. Its pull beneath the surface tugs at my legs before I see its crest high above the other waves.
This is the one. Excitement rises in my throat, but I force myself to be calm, to focus, to listen to its rhythm as it rushes towards me.
"Keep still, wait for the right moment, let the wave take you, guide you…go go go!" I give a push and I am up!
I am standing, soaring, gliding above the wave, a queen of the seas, my servants pushing and rushing me down to the shore in a glorious gasp of spray and foam. I jump off, triumphant, a girl with the power of the ocean in her grasp.
The next wave creeps up without a sound, rising high above my head, the foam jumping with glee at having caught my unawareness, the current elatedly slamming me into the ground. Gone is the light. My world has turned dark, black, the water, the sand, a roaring mess of wetness and force.
Gasping for breath I rise, stumbles, winded. The sea retreats once more. On the sand I sit to catch my breath, as the sun beats down and dries the rivulets of spray on my back.
I breathe, I dry, my skin cracked from the salt and the sand. The waves continue to lap. The sun beats down.
The shade beckons. The ocean calls. I pick up my board and stride into the waves.