A long time ago, my son told me, “Mum, I want to show you the clouds under the water.” The beach was magic that day. The sun shone brightly. The water was crisp and clean with an aqua hue. The waves were powerful and inviting. “Mum, you have to put your head under the water and open your eyes.”— something I don’t do!
Confused and uncertain of what my son wanted to show me, I held his hand and waited for the perfect wave. We submerged our heads beneath the water’s surface and looked back towards it—no goggles, just our naked eyes.
As the waves and whitewash crashed above us, they did indeed look like clouds. It was magical, ethereal, and memorable—an experience I’ll always remember.
The sun felt hotter than I remembered as we returned to the white, crisp sand. It was burning, piercing, and slightly violent, starkly contrasting to the underwater haven that had enveloped me.
The water quickly evaporated from my skin. The sun’s rays felt like they burst through my sunscreen lotion. Squinting, it took some time for my eyes to focus as the bright glare pierced the back of my eyeballs.
The transition from an underwater paradise to the bright light of day was beyond stark, just like this week and most of the year.
