No one knew about the sea cave down by the beach. When the waves thundered onto shore and sea spray hit the rocks, there was a craggy opening by the side around the bend. Water flowed in and splashed along the walls. But in the early morning, when it was misty, you could walk inside it. It was a whole other world in there.
Glistening walls with water trickling down. Pieces of seaweed far up into the cave on wet sand. Because the pathway curved, as you walked further inside, the ocean sounds became quiet like a lulling whisper. Like a chant. It was a moment and a place where one could feel both connected and soothed at the same time. It was a place where it was easy to breathe and be.
If you went deep enough, there was a place that you could climb upon the rocks. Going up, you’d eventually notice light filtering into the cave from above. And as you crept closer to this place, there was another opening that was large enough to fit through.
All this was important because when the tides came back in, the water would overflow into cave and unless you knew where to go, you could drown.
Still, the light was easy to find and the climb was not too hard. If anything, it felt vaguely exciting to have the possibility of real danger lurking around the corner. It pushed you to pay attention and watch as the water levels gradually rose. Further and further back it directed you until you were flush with the rock. And from there, you got it. It was easy once you got the hang of it.
Besides knowing about the cave, how to get there, where to find a hidden passageway, knowing about the changes of the ocean, once you climbed out from the second opening, you stood on the back of a giant sheet of rock and it was the most beautiful view you could imagine. It was a shame that some let their fears prevent them from experiencing this view, this cave, this rock, but such is life, I suppose.
Rolling waves as far as the eye could see and at the horizon, the periphery of another realm.