Waves crash against the sandy shore, pummeling the surface with their stunning weight. A gray morning descends upon the deserted beach, and the waves are the only sound throughout the foggy air. They continue to slam against the soaked sand, never interrupting their rhythm, never faltering or slowing. Nobody is watching, nobody is listening, yet the waves never fail. The water is fueled by a ceaseless energy, a will to live, a will to go on, a will to fall against the shore without ever hesitating.
The water is full of an unmatched refreshing glory. The water is a gliding torrent of fresh heaven, tainted only by the salt and by the frothy goodness that puts a crest on the waves. Later in the day, the water will glimmer and dance in the sunshine, and the ocean will be an invigorating haven from the burning heat. People will flock to the refuge of the splashing ocean and bask in the glowing sunlight. But the waves will still crash against the shore; never pausing, never slowing, never ceasing to be the waves.
The song "Kite" by U2 fits this scene well.
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