It’s my first time here.

I’ve traveled on my own.

I’m an adult now,

or so I’ve been told.

I know where I have to go first.

The wind against my cheeks,

tangling with each whip of air.

My shoulders,

immediately feeling

the harsh rays.

My eyes shaded

and my feet now cold.

But I have to stay in.

Water is clearer

and sand less rocky.

Beaches back home

can’t even compete.

I belong here.

Three hours earlier

or three hours late?

There is no difference

when you’re here.

The Pacific Ocean

kept waving hello

and I was happy

to accept its friendly demeanor.

A beautiful place to call

home.

I never want to leave

this beach.