The Atlantic

Posted in Writing Prompt

I’ve never experienced anything like the coast of Ireland and the smell of the Atlantic. Water so cold and unrelenting, yet lovely.

Enchanting.

I sat in the cold wind, bundled from head to toe in layers, staring out into the sea from my perch on the Seapoint Promenade in Salt Hill, Galway.  I took in everything around me, and I can honestly say I was fully immersed in the present moment. There, listening to the birds and the people, the cars and the unforgiving crashing of the waves against the stone and sand, I felt happy. I felt whole. I felt strong, for the first time in a very long time.

Take me back.

Published by Becky

Let's not get it twisted. I'm a nerd. A bonafide weirdo. I'm figuring out now that it isn't such a bad thing to be weird, to like grammar and vocabulary, to appreciate a delicious cup of coffee or the way certain text creates imagery. Appreciation for music that results in goosebumps isn't so uncommon, really.

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