Chasing the Tide


We chased the tide, running to our island haven as the salty waves caressed our feet and the mud of the ocean floor squelched between our toes. The horizon was a blur of colour; nature’s own filter blending the oranges, reds and navy blues into a collage engulfing our island. When the tide swallowed the last of the pathway to the mainland, we looked out upon the vast expanse of swirling waves all around us, listening to them break the silence of dusk as they lapped rhythmically against the rocks.

Out in the clear country air, we lay on our backs with cans of beer and followed the shooting stars across the sky, mesmerised by the tiny flickers of long ago illuminating the night sky. We lay at peace with ourselves and the world, wondering idly: what is life? Why do we worry about so many trivial things when we know barely anything about who we are, and who we are to become?

There is something so liberating about the ocean. It is full of secrets from years ago, being whispered from far within its murky depths. It houses another world of life and death, survival and instinct, hidden beneath its gently undulating surface twinkling in the twilight. It is easy to become a slave to the inner city beat, lost in a suffocating world of work and people and unhealthy routine. Sometimes it helps to relinquish control, and lose yourself to the quiet, humble magnitude of the Earth around you, and beyond into the unknown.


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