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.