By Baker Street
The sea. The sea. Vast, and lying stretched out in all directions. The breakers roll on endlessly, and tumble and break onto the rocks and shore. The waves heave and pull against one another with might and fury. They struggle in a never-ending battle against one another, and the wind.
The wind blows strong across the sea and the shore. There is a strong smell of salt and moisture in the air. The wind always stirs here along the coast, and it never quite ceases blowing. Now it blows gently, then it picks up strength, and blows with more purpose. The wind blows. It blows, and never rests.
Above the roaring waters, sea birds circle in the sky in search of meal. Occasionally one would scream and dive, then soon return to circling in the skies with the others. Along the shore a few stray people are walking on the beach. They wander alone or in couples on the seashore.
The wind bends the trees that run in rows beyond the high-water mark. And still the sea rolls on endlessly under the blue sky scattered with gray clouds. The sea heaves and moves with life, it rumbles on and never stops rolling and breaking onto the white sands of the shore…