Clouds are nature's way of keeping secrets.

The sea stretched out before me like an endless canvas of muted blues and greens. The clouds above hung low, as if contemplating their own reflection in the water below. The land sloped gently down from the grassy patch where I stood, punctuated by shrubs that seemed to thrive against the odds. A single rock jutted out toward the beach below, its surface weathered smooth by countless tides. The air carried a faint tang of salt, mingling with the earthy scent of damp grass. It was a place that demanded stillness—not out of reverence but because it left you with little else to do but observe. Even the waves seemed to agree as they lapped gently against the shore, unhurried and deliberate in their rhythm.