As we walked closer, we could hear the waves roar ferociously. The younger ones squealed with delight and ran faster, till their little feet dug in the warm sand. I saw white tide and the beautiful sun, with a sky with a gradient of yellow, orange, red and purple. There were dried fish and small, tiny crabs in the wet sand with off-white shells amongst them. I kept running till I felt the cold seawater up to my knees. We splashed and laughed, and jumped when a wave came. The smell of fish and salt felt good, so did the rhythmic sound of the waves. The children threw sand-balls at each other and closed their eyes and floated on calm water. The water was crystal clear and so pure that you are tempted to drink it but you can't so you just play, and look out of small stingrays. We played till our lips tasted of saltwater and sand in our hair. In the end we made a city of sand-castles and small 'swimming pools' and 'underground tunnels'.
We came back to our small, quaint cottage, smiling and watching as the big ball of fire set towards the west, and with the sea still in our heart.
