As I sit on the bannister of Wedding Rock, I am filled with the sea breeze, the ocean’s pulsating roar, the cries of the birds swimming, flying, and dancing, and heat and warmth of the sun. The open air echoes with sound, drumming against my ears.

I have been to this place before, but now I am changed. Sensing the world around me, I know that the trees soak up the ocean’s roar, taking in one soundscape to make space for another. The absence of the ocean hum is apparent to me within the trees, with my ears becoming attuned to the rustling and creaking of the forest.

The sun, so bright against my skin, becomes reduced to slivers of light that shower down through the treeish tendrils. These leaves are steaming, perspiring with the day’s sun energy, shedding off the night’s cold in a lazy mist. Like a call bearer, signaling the start of a new life, the day brings with it a symphony of sound that ebbs and blends together, permeating in the cool fall breeze.

Not a cloud in sight, save for the slow-rising mist that is ascending towards the heavens.