1 hour walk at Lepe beach Watching the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the waves on the sand. The waves are like wild stallions, rearing up before crashing down on to the pebbled beach, pounding the sand with their white foam hooves. The waves come and go, always there, raising, falling. How could I not love their movement as they move towards me and crash into the pebbles obstructing their path. White foam bubbles becoming chaotic lace over the blue cloth. Salty sea air slightly stings your face as if sand paper in the waving wind. How it turns your cheeks rosy and hands sightly white. And the hue of the scattering waves is every changing, yet always familiar. Like life and the path I walk, it is always changing but always familiar.