The waves seem to be auditioning for a drama series.

The coastline stretched out like a jagged scar carved by time itself. The waves hurled themselves against the rocks with a force that seemed both reckless and deliberate. Standing there, I felt like an intruder in a world ruled by tides and winds. The cliffs bore the weight of centuries, their edges softened by the relentless embrace of the sea. There was a strange comfort in knowing that this battle between land and water had been waged long before I arrived and would continue long after I left. The overcast sky muted the colors but sharpened every detail—the frothy spray of the waves, the dark crevices in the rocks, the stubborn patches of green clinging to the edges. It was a landscape that didn’t just invite observation; it demanded reverence.