sandcastles and storms.

clouds form weird shapes and puff along contrasting with the blue, and it's weird how you never notice the small things. when looking out beyond an ocean, you're hearing the waves building in the distance. almost like a roar before the lion opens his mouth. you can see it moving towards you while your feet sink in the gray sand, and slowly the white foam appears at the top. just slightly curling and bending like nature intended. and a few feet out, it collapses. a slow crash of death, and the aftermath of slow ripples rushes over your buried toes. and for a brief moment, you look out and you can see where the sky meets the water. this thin line some call the horizon. and it's as if everything bleeds like a watercolor painting. it's hard to find where one begins and the other ends. the lines become blurred and before you can sort out the complexities of an abundant sky, your little fingers collect balls of sand, and your attention on something so great and vast has waned. now it's back to who can build the highest tower. and of course you can't forget the moat. be careful that no one steps on the drawbridge, and after all is said and done, you're the princess of your lop-sided, perfectly-crafted sandcastle. the temperature drops a few degrees and the shadows have shifted, so it is time to leave the sand behind. the roaring echoes as you take one last look back, and you know this next one is coming for your castle. the white foam is barely visible from the parking lot, and just as the great wave collapses, you sigh because of course the amazing moat is now flooded and the king is probably drowning. but at least you found some shells.