I lay on the beach, far enough from the tide line and the driftwood so that the incoming tide would not force me to move. Once comfortable on the blanket my body having shifted the sand beneath to fit ..I drifted into a half sleep.The wind was light and just the grasses on the dunes waved in a dithering manner. Soon I was conscious of the even pulse of the sea relenting itself on the flowing tide and then the scrunching noise as it grasped at the pebbles and sand on its retreat. At first this was distant and lulling but as time went by the persistence of the crashing waves and the steady retreat became the only sound I was conscious of. It filled my head.. sometimes the rhythmn would be pushed as a larger wave gathered momentum before keeling over and spreading its frothy fingers over the shingle followed by the rasping gravelly sound as the sea made ready for an even larger waves to push their relentless weight obeying the moon's orders. The fuming sound of white spumes filled my senses and the steadiness touched every cell in my body at one with the oldest of rhythmns known to man