We went on a 20-minute drive to a beach resort last Sunday, and a late afternoon walk is ideal to do on the perfect black-sandy beach. The sun was setting, the water was a little unsettled, and the waves on the shore formed a foamy crest.
We used to come here around five years ago, before the pandemic—there wasn’t a single resort back then. We’d swim here with my relatives. Now, it’s a bit more developed.
It was only us walking on the beach. It's like we rented the whole beach. I love it there. No crowds. No noise. No videoke! Silence is empty, but it seems full.
The breeze felt so good, and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore was so calming. I inhaled again and again, each breath felt contentment.
I walked toward the rows of trees that were right along the shore. The way they were placed there was so unique. This little beach still feels untouched, like very few people ever come here. It’s good they didn’t cut down these trees—they look so beautiful and natural. I just hope they won’t be removed if someone decides to build a resort right in front of them.
There were so many green plants, looking like lilies, washed up along the shore at that time. But it was still great to own the beach that day. It's normal for lilies to wash up to the shore because the waves were a bit high, and aquatic plants like lilies from a nearby wetland are pushed onto the beach. A caretaker was raking them up and pulling them aside.
Those are my daughter and nieces from afar.
This unique branch of the tree is a nice place to sit on and be absent-minded, just think now and only now. Not thinking about work, future, kids, worries, and problems. 
Thank you for swinging by and have a salty one.
Note: All photos are mine and the lead photo was edited by Canva.
