A beach is not only a sweep of sand, but shells of sea creatures, the sea glass, the seaweed, the incongruous objects washed up by the ocean.
The beach is a place of healing and joy. The salt cleanses us, and the sun embraces us in its warmth. The ocean heals the heart, mind, and soul.
I could never stay long enough on the shore; the tang of the untainted, fresh, and free sea air was like a cool, quieting thought.
At the beach, life is different. Time doesn't move hour to hour, but mood to moment. We live by the currents, plan by the tides, and follow the sun.
The beach is the perfect place to relax and do nothing. Or to do something, but without any thought or purpose.
To myself I am only a child playing on the beach, while vast oceans of truth lie undiscovered before me.
The ocean stirs the heart, inspires the imagination, and brings eternal joy to the soul.
The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
In every outthrust headland, in every curving beach, in every grain of sand, there is the story of the earth.