'Looks like even rocks have a flair for abstract art.'

The rocks seemed alive in their stillness. One formation jutted out like the profile of some ancient creature frozen mid-roar. The wind whispered secrets as it passed through the hollowed curves and sharp edges, carrying with it the salty breath of the ocean below. I crouched to trace my fingers along the rough surface of one boulder, its texture a map of time's relentless patience. The sea stretched endlessly beyond, its rhythm a quiet reminder that even these stones were not eternal.