This visit was purely for the work out of climbing over the dune but oh, what views!
It's hard to imagine the tranquility of this place but consider a sun soaked beach with the sand and wooden planks warmed from the day, the sounds of the waves pushing to shore and meeting the beach, the wind fingering your hair and gently brushing your face as your clothes hemlines dance around your legs and body, the feel of sand on the bottoms of your feet and the lifting of the weight of the world off your shoulders as your eyes try to understand the beauty of what lies before you.
On the 10th of June, 2002, I came here to watch a sunset and wrote the following:
"Clouds hang on words unspoken, by lips parted but unmoving. They drift as my thoughts and change to be unrecognizable as thoughts forgotten, dreams pushed under realistic minds. They meld together and create an endless color, pulling my seeking mind in, but offering no resolution. My eyes grow tired as I peer into this emptiness, mind clearing as lashes blur my vision."
"Clouds hang on words unspoken, by lips parted but unmoving. They drift as my thoughts and change to be unrecognizable as thoughts forgotten, dreams pushed under realistic minds. They meld together and create an endless color, pulling my seeking mind in, but offering no resolution. My eyes grow tired as I peer into this emptiness, mind clearing as lashes blur my vision."
Climbing up.. the sounds you hear are only the waves rushing to shore, the flip of my flops, and the wind whistling around the microphone of my camera and blowing up my skirt.
going down..
views from the top
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