The waves crashed against the rocks loudly, sending up a spray of mist. The water droplets splashed all over my Nikes, but I didn’t care. They were old and faded anyway. 

Another wave rolled in, this one gentler. And another. It was a rhythmic song, the sound of the waves. 

I shifted from my perch on the rock to make myself more comfortable. I would be there for a while, I knew. 

Once I was comfortable, I stared out at the ocean. The moonlight shimmered brightly off the water’s dark surface, which stretched as far as I could see. A serene sense of peace settled over me. There was something so calming about the beach at night. 

It was normally a crowded and noisy place. In the summer months, the fine sand absorbed the sun’s heat. At midafternoon, it was often as hot as fireplace coals. As a result, the ocean was packed with sweaty bodies, everyone trying to find relief from the scorching rays of the sun. Many sported mosquito bites. 

Nighttime was a stark contrast. The sand was cool to the touch and the waves gentler somehow, as though their ferocity had been muted now that night had fallen. On the western border of the beach was a house, the perimeter lined with a tall pile of rocks. It was these rocks that I sat upon tonight. 

Often I would leave my own house when the sun had set, sometimes with company. Today, I was alone. I almost preferred it that way. 

I turned my face to the wind, letting my hair stream out behind me. I stared at the moon unblinkingly until my vision blurred from the tears 

Then I turned to the water again, just in time for another wave to send up a spray of seafoam. 

I sat on that rock, and I listened to the sound of the waves.