Father once told me that the first thing my wee feet touched was an ocean wave. Which makes sense considering I would spend all my free time at the beach. Especially at night, whenever the sky was clear. I would take a walk, with only the aid of moonlight and stars to guide me on the path around the lowest part of the cliffs. The sound of the crashing waves told me how close I was to the ocean. This was always a magic time for me, when I would become a ghost and all but disappear into the thick darkness of rocky shadows. I never worried about wild animals most of them did not dare to get this close to the cliff’s edge. I did have to watch out for sleeping seals. I would occasionally hear a disgruntled bark from one as my approach forced it awake and back into the icy ocean. Sometimes I would just sit on the cliffs and disappear to the point that even the seals forgot about me.
One night I remember connoting two sets of falling stars while being a “ghost”. It is amazing what one can see and hear when to all other living creators one had completely disappeared. In this state of being I ha e heard everything from human conversation to seals and other creatures that lurk about in the night. Though the sound that has continued to stay with me is that of fierce waves crashing angrily against rocks that refuse to make way for them.