The cliffs look like they're holding a secret meeting with the sea.

The cliffs stretched out like a jagged smile against the endless blue of the sea. A narrow walking path traced their edge, daring visitors to flirt with the abyss. Below, the waves crashed with relentless energy, carving their stories into stone. The houses perched on the hill above seemed almost out of place—too orderly for the wildness below. I paused to watch a seagull hover momentarily before diving toward some unseen prize. The air smelled of salt and sun-warmed rock, a combination that felt both ancient and fleeting. I wondered if these cliffs had always stood this way or if they too had been shaped by time’s quiet insistence. Somewhere in the distance, laughter echoed faintly—a reminder that life continues even as we marvel at its edges.