The ocean had a song.
The song was crisp and clear as a bright summer's day, and when you tried to grasp more of the melody, it seemed to disappear into places where only your mind could reach and not your ears. The scent of the sea would pour through you, almost like a perfect lullaby, but the salt-stung wind would remind you that you were at the ocean and not the place of nowhere—your imagination.
The ocean's song was in parts, sometimes together, sometimes stretching apart. Wave over wave piled up on the sand before making a gradual release to the dark blue depths. The coarse gritty sand would choke and retch every time a wave swept over it, loosening its infinite hold on the earth. The splashes would curve its way, roughly mashing against the underwater grounds.
The birds, too, were part of the song. They would caw and screech, and the sound would vibrate in their throats. Indescribable, land dwellers called it. But they were only mere land dwellers who had not felt what a mermaid could feel, the smooth coral brushing against your fin, the heady scent of sea water encompassing you, the perfect tranquility that could only be obtained if you knew you could breathe underwater and have no real fear of running out of oxygen.
The animals of the coral, the floating plankton, the swimming schools of fish—so much life in the ocean. It was all part of the ocean's solemn song.
If you strained your ears, you might catch a breath of the melody, but it would all fade away too soon, like the warmth billowing into the cold on a winter's day. But the land dwellers never did. They would squeal delightedly and splash around in the ocean, a real hindrance to the song, and would take it all for granted before leaving their imprints across the dusty, ocean-swept floor.
Things were different underwater, the way you heard things, the way you saw things, the way you felt things. And always more.
She wondered if she was the only one who would gaze for hours at the ocean, from her safe perch on a rather large rock encompassed by more ocean because it felt right. She wondered if she was the only one who would let the wind sweep through her hair as she watched the glistening waters sparkle and gleam. She wondered if she was the only one who heard the song.
But there had to be others, right? Because if there weren't...well, that was an awful thought. It would be awful not to have experienced the ocean's song.
Further beyond her line of gaze was more water, and some dolphins clucked at each other before diving under the depths of the water. A wave of calm seemed to emanate from the ocean itself, so tranquil, so beautiful, so much better when there weren't those awful land dwellers leaving their garbage all over the beach. But this beach was clean, utterly devoid of trash.
Of course, one has his own meaning for trash.
Color the world if you must, color the people and the nature and the animals.
The ocean was blue, a color so vast and infinite there were so many possibilities, just a fraction apart from each other. Intriguing and serene, the ocean was something one must see at least once in their life, if not more. Because the ocean was the ocean, and you haven't lived until you have felt the hot sand under your feet and the scorching sun beating on your back as you feel that sense of wildness in yourself, that unreleased animal part that's just aching to be unleashed.
The sun was bright, a scorching sphere in the sky. It would burn and burn before the moon would overtake its place, shrouding the beach, and everywhere else, with a darkness so impenetrable you wondered if there was ever an end. Oh, but there was, and the sun would rise again. Filling everything with its light, even if it was just a shadow of light.
The place was alive because of all of this, creating impossible frictions within the soul. Pure and refined, those were the words for the ocean. Yes, to have a single day in the sun with your eyes trained on the ocean ahead of you can make you feel more alive than you've ever felt more. Brimming with life it seemed surreal, the ocean's own ethereal beauty drew eyes to it as if it was the sole light in the universe.
You could picture it. You could close your eyes and see that perfect ocean lying ahead, if there was ever one, with a dash of purple and pink with the rising blue of the waves. Perhaps a splash of molten-lava and a searing orange blasting against ocean, burning with color. But the blue remained blue as ever, and the other colors only occasionally rose. And perhaps, you could even see a glimpse of a rainbow somewhere there, too, if you looked carefully enough.
She inhaled another breath of that salt-filled sea and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the way the spray of the sea water buzzed in the air. In her mind, though, she was in the water, and in her mind's eye, she could see so much beauty in the ocean. She relished the brief image, fabricated from all her times in the ocean and listening to its song, really, breathing in the song. Another perfect note strung through the air, and a smile graced her lips in bliss.
No beginning, no middle, and no end. Something that could both capture the ocean's magic and eradicate it. A purpose.
As the ocean's song breathed its last few notes, night drew, and the ocean was calm and still as a frozen hydrangea.
A final breath, and it settled down.
Because the ocean's song changed for every single person. Because some could hear it roaring in their ears and soul whereas others could only capture a glimpse.
The song of the ocean.