Blue as far as the eye can see, above and below, all other colors seem trivial. But as the hours and minutes tick by, marked every half hour by the dinging of the church bells not so far away, the blue gives way to pastel pinks and pale purples. I close my eyes and take in the smell of the salt as the breeze drifts by me. I can hear the waves crashing on the shore as if right in front of me, though in truth it is not so far off.
The scent of the ocean and the sound of waves have always calmed me. But more so at night when the beach is empty. I enjoy the solitude and the vast expanse of the water slowly becoming more difficult to see. There’s a simplicity to it that opens my mind to the possibilities that lie just beyond the horizon.
When I open my eyes, I can see the blue and orange umbrellas that dot the beach below have been closed up, their time to rest before tomorrow’s small group of beach goers arrive. A group of men, at least in their 70s, sets up their card game where the road meets the dock. Like clockwork they are there every night as the sun begins its slow descent. Ducks squawk their nightly routine, though I don’t know what they are fighting about.
I sip my cheap beer and watch as Andy sips his. Our conversations flow back and forth, and in between, moments of silence as we both let our surroundings take over. I am content, relaxed, on this tiny terrace 87 steps above our hidden corner of the Amalfi Coast. If only we could stay in this moment, in this place, forever. But the bells in the distance chime again, reminding me that time does keep moving, and soon we must move on as well.