Day 2 at the beach. *plays Sweater Weather in background*
I love just the atmosphere of this little creaky house, it feels like it jumped straight out from an a Pixar animation. This would be my ideal future home: small house by the ocean, touching nothing but the white sands.
Another hunched ocean house that makes me want to whip my pen and start writing. *lazily resists the urge*
I think I’ve made it my only goal in life to sit at the beach and wait for random people to photograph and catch “on film” all the wonderful and quirky adventures and the people that somehow wind up by the ocean. Even from walking along the shoreline for a short evening stroll, there’s just so much commotion from the quietness of the ocean: a little girl taking baby steps into the cold arms of the waves or the guy who saves his bread from dinner to summon a flock of hungry seagulls. As if each person is a story on top of another, a compilation of events that entwine on the basis of the blue sea.
My grandmother, brother, and I were taking a morning stroll and crashed into a sweet family that had brought some leftover hamburger buns to feed the birds. Upon sight of the bread, the seagulls came in a swarm of commotion, flying dizzily above our heads. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a warm welcoming before but it one of those ethereal experiences that can’t be fully captured through photograph or words.