The sun rises over the watery horizon and casts a beam of light across the ocean. It dances on the waves before shimmering where the water meets the shore. Its sunrise at the beach, and from where I stand on the deserted boardwalk, everything is cast in a gold glow. The only sounds are the crash of the waves and the cries of the seagulls.
  I slowly begin to walk towards the endless expanse of sea, my footsteps whispers in the soft sand. I don’t stop until I reach the edge of the water. I close my eyes and focus only on the way the waves wash over my feet. The constant push and pull of the tide as it sucks at the sand around where I stand, making me slowly sink. The occasional brush from a floating piece of seaweed. The only place where I can find peace.
  But the beach won’t remain empty for long. The tourists and other sun-worshippers will arrive son, disrupting the quiet. But I have these moments now that I can hold onto until the last second. They will have to last me until my next visit. So I slowly open my eyes and look to where the sea meets the sky. If only it were a place that could be reached. But a horizon might as well be a mirage, because you can never really find it even though you see it. No matter how far you go, it will always move ahead to the last point you can see. Its own master at the everlasting escape.
  But a small bump against my toes momentarily takes my train of thought. I reach down into the water to find the source of the nudge.  There I discover a perfectly formed ring of a seashell. The waves had hollowed its middle on the journey to the beach. This will be my treasure for the day, a remembrance of the solitude. So I slip the shell into my pocket and make my way back to the now crowding boardwalk.