We’re by the ocean, on a lifelong vacation. This is where I plan to stay. The sun creeps through the curtains of my room this early morning. From my hotel bed, which probably hasn’t seen a washing machine in a few months, I can smell the Ocean.

The sea breeze brings a salty tinge to the air in the morning as I open up the windows to my room; it is a bright sunny day outside, but the weather quickly changes. I walk outside, onto the soft, warm sand, the sun beating down on the Earth already, and it is not yet 8 a.m. The room I’m staying in is old, rundown, messy, and full of interesting objects. These things consist of aged and moldy food in the refrigerator, and someone’s dirty clothes in a heap on the other side of the room. One light in the room still works, the other two bulbs have burnt out, but the sun brings in just enough light to leave a dim hew across the room. As I open up the old, cracked doors of the closet, something scutters across the room. Pulling out my swimming suit from the wooden drawer inside, I close it and the hinge snaps, I think to myself, “Oh great.”

It is now 10 a.m as I walk along the shoreline in my tattered sweatshirt. Barefoot, I can feel the hot sand between my toes. The sea gulls screech over head as they rush around, diving at any small movement. A younger one in the group goofily hobbles towards me; I figure he must smell the crackers in my pocket. Hunkering down, I pull out a single morsel from my torn pocket, and outstretch my hand towards the young bird. Tediously, it comes closer to the cracker, snatching it from my hand; it flies away, only to be attacked by the older birds. I keep on walking on my path along the shore. Right about now, from the sun’s position in the sky I would guess it’s noon. I’ve been walking for hours. You tend to lose track of time when you’re in a place as beautiful as this. Out here, the sun shines, the breeze is cool, the water, warm, and the time, unlimited. I walk a little ways more down the shoreline, surprised that no one else is out this fine afternoon. Walks like this make you think, a lot. They make you think about the World’s great beauty, and itself as a whole. The Ocean, the bearer of three quarters of its organisms, so large and intriguing, it’s no wonder most of our creatures live there. As I stand here, gazing at the water and its white caps, I look to the sky once again. Now I would say the time is about 4 p.m. Walks down the beach are becoming a daily thing, and time, where it may be top priority to someone else, comes last on my list. Now I could tell you of all the things I see on my way back, but they would not be any different from what I had seen before, although the setting Sun does cast a beautiful pink-purple shade across every grain of sand, and the Ocean sparkles, every droplet of water in place. Now, at my door, my hand searches through my pocket for my key, and just before I put it into the keyhole, I look back at that ocean once more before turning in.

I suppose almost anyone would like to live in such a place as this. The living quarters not perfect, but the ocean, in its finest, makes up for every imperfection. Everyone hopes to find that perfect place one day, that seems to have been put there just for them, and I hope they do, because I have found mine. The day is winding down to an end, as the crimson setting sun creeps through my windows once more today, and kisses the Earth before it says goodnight. I settle down into bed, smelling that salty fragrance, once again.