Even the cliffs seem to be leaning in for a closer look at the waves.

The wind carried with it the faint scent of salt and seaweed, mingling with the earthy aroma of damp grass. I traced the jagged edge of the cliffs with my eyes, marveling at how each crack and crevice seemed to tell a story of resilience. The waves below roared like an audience applauding an ancient performance, their rhythm both chaotic and hypnotic. I found myself wondering how many storms these rocks had endured, how many sunsets they had framed. The patches of green clinging to the edges felt like small acts of defiance against the relentless forces shaping this place. It was a landscape that seemed alive in its stillness, every detail vibrating with quiet intensity.