Beach Trip

Walking along the beach, I just wonder whether the sea could be bluer than it is now. Surrounding by those white buildings, the Mediterranean Sea looks like the giant blue diamond on the earth. Every sparkling wave is the smile from the ocean, when it runs against the stones on the shoreline, the foams it breaks into is the giggle from the sea. Wind blows over the surface of the sea; it runs through the pillars of the ancient temples. It sings the same songs when it runs into the white buildings, when it touches the blue roofs softly. Wind is the lonely skald who just wanders between the earth and the sky. It sings the same song over thousands of years, the song that Homer heard at his time. Through the wind, we could hear the yelling from the ancient heroes. The wind must be there, when everyone was singing praise to Helen’s charm, when the army broke the gate of Troy. Walking along the beach, the wave is our company while the wind is our commentator.
Put up your hand and if you had a transparent blue rubber wristbands , you would see the more beautiful view then. Look at the sun through the transparent blue silicon rubber, even the sun becomes blue; the sky has never been so clean and pure. With the wind’s whisper, time seems stop at that moment. I just lay on the beach; the blue shinning sun makes me dizzy. Close my eyes; I have pictures of ancient wars in my head. Wind whispers as a lover beside my ears. He was there, he was the skald with Apollo’s harp in his arms, he sang for death, for fighting and for the heroes. But now he just sings for me. A sunny day on the beach of Mediterranean, you could hear Poseidon’s daughter’s laughter, you could communicate with the ancient heroes, the wind is your interpreter.