There’s something about the beach that clings to you long after you’ve shaken the sand from your shoes and rinsed the salt from your hair. The ocean has a way of imprinting itself in the soul. It’s the sound of the waves, the golden warmth of sunlight, the colors that stretch endlessly from turquoise shallows …
There’s something about the beach that makes words flow in a way they never seem to at home. Maybe it’s the air—thick with salt and possibility—that makes your pen feel lighter in your hand. Maybe it’s the hypnotic rhythm of the waves, each one crashing with the same force yet never the same shape, that …
