The birds must be holding a meeting about the wind’s antics today.

The clouds seemed to shift in slow motion above me, their dark underbellies casting fleeting shadows over the sand. The light played tricks on the landscape—one moment harsh and glaring, the next soft and forgiving. The waves never let up; they charged forward with a kind of reckless determination that felt oddly human. A few birds circled above, their wings outstretched like silent kites tethered to the wind’s whim. I paused to watch them for longer than I meant to, wondering if they ever tired of this endless dance with gravity. The mist rising from the distant breakers blurred the line between sea and sky, as if nature itself was undecided on where one ended and the other began.