I say that I want to stay in places until they become a part of me, and I them. It takes minutes for the sea to become a part of you- salt in your lungs, water in your ears, longing in your soul, and the transfer between ocean and sand that turns your feet into salty dip sticks. The only question which still lingers is- how do I become a part of this place?
Maybe, I already am a part of it all, by nature of what I am- a girl raised in the shadow of a mountain, with snow water in my veins and muscles that have known how to handle ski poles for as long as I can remember. Maybe, the stories of girls with skin as white as snow have always been written in the sand, for we are completely out of our element, and I think the earth loves those kind of stories. Maybe, the carelessness of the sea needs stories like mine just as much as it needs surfers and gulls, in order to survive.