The beach looks different to the one we have back in Christchurch. The first thing I notice when I jump out of the car is twiddly little trees scattered out into a line, just like a row of stitches that have been stitched into a quilt. As they rocked gently it reminds me of the breeze in Christchurch and how it always used to brush against my face. The sand spreads against my feet, which feels just like a deep, warm, gold blanket, right at home, like I have a sense of belonging. As I lay down on the ground, I can see crinkly blue waves bobbing up and down, hitting on my side of the beach. I felt no movement under me, absolutely nothing. This felt comfortable, and somehow I felt elated, happy, even though it was just another beach, it felt nice.
I look to my side and run over rocky bumps. They feel inflexible, not like they’re doing backflips. I don't feel like I'm going to fall, I feel solid, firm under my feet. Nearby I can see a big forest, with lush green trees, and moist plants, flourishing in delight. I make my way to take a closer look when I stumble into something wet, deep. I look down to find a mini cave with shimmering, glittering colors and amazing small creatures. The beauty of the masterpiece was delicate, like jewels scattering themselves in a mini cave. I look over to the large, sooty, steep, bumpy cliff, towering over me. I stumbleupon dirt under an arched stone. I peer over to find stepping stones with water flowing underneath, revealing the ocean, with the tide coming in. I throw my shoes over, then jump myself. The water is numbing and makes my mouth salty. As I hear the thudding and rocking thrashing against the rocks, I feel elated again.
I hear a distracting noise of a seal, I know it's behind me on the rocky verge. I decide to ignore it and look into the ocean as the the sun and the horizon glimmer like a realm of sunshine, glowing onto my face. Running back to the sandy beach, I look to the right. In the distance I see a large pine with a long trunk that you can climb up with hard bark on the side, and a long tower. Made out of wood revealing a wedge with branches, and a branch you can hang onto.
I climb up it, satisfied only when I'm at the top. I peer on to see the beautiful beach. Everything seems to be in the distance now; the cliff with rocks way back and the same seal barking, with a noise that I can't quite explain. The tide had come in and the stepping stones were nearly hidden. It feels nice to be here on the bark. As I touch it and smell it I think of the happiness of children playing on it years ago. How they would have been sharing memories, collecting shells, sharing secrets, exploring the values of being a child, all shared onto this magnificent piece of wildlife. As the ages go by there must be a reason why the place is how is not trashed and it's still there. How is the tree like a tower and who planted the trees in rows? How long has love been standing here? When will these trees stop swaying? When will the beach end? I'm curious but still elated. I'm glad that my two feet can manage to stay right here, right now.