The cormorants seem to be holding a beachside meeting about the weather.

The wind picked up speed as I turned my gaze toward a gathering of cormorants perched on the sand. Their dark silhouettes stood stark against the muted palette of sea and sky, heads bobbing slightly as if in quiet conversation. They seemed unbothered by the restless waves behind them, their stillness a counterpoint to the ocean’s ceaseless motion. I watched as one bird stretched its wings briefly before settling back into its place among the others. The scene felt almost conspiratorial—nature’s own council convening at the edge of the world. A distant wave broke harder than the rest, sending a misty spray into the air that caught what little light remained. It was as if the sea itself was applauding their stoic presence. For a moment, I envied their patience, their ability to simply exist without questioning the tide’s intent.