As I walk on this beach I hear a song that draws me closer. It’s so sweet so smooth. It sounds like a large orchestra. I can see the the glimmer of the shining wood but it only 7 play that I see standing.

As I get closer the sound get bigger but I can’t see the faces of the players. But when I get to the instruments there just sitting in the sand of the beach all crack and ruined.

But the sweet ...

As the sun crept over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, she strolled along the shore, the rhythmic pulse of the waves lapping at their feet. She had walked this path every morning, a comforting ritual that allowed her to lose herself in the serenity of the ocean. But today was different.

There, embedded in the sand like some ancient relic, stood an ornate piano, its intricat...

Trying to fit in

Doesn’t seem hard

But when your

me it’s so difficult you

Feel like you have

To be like the rest but

You just have to drown your

Sorrows instead trying to

Look like the rest all

Pretty and perfect

But im not perfect I’m a mess...

The gentle lapping of the waves against the early-morning beach sings to me like a mother sings a lullaby to her coveted baby. I sway my head side to side, snap my fingers, and smile along to the tune. The wind whips at my hair and my lips taste of sea salt. Brine and the scent of sea creatures fills my senses, the warmth of the rising sun confirming all the promises of a new day.

I look around ...

My grandmother always told me that music will always find you. Either in the soft chirp of birds, the serene ocean waves in the night, or the laughter of friends enjoying each other’s company. Her words made me listen closely for the hidden notes, rhythms, and time signatures in every moment. Even when I couldn’t find anything, my grandmother came to mind instead.

Even more so when she died.

Dur...

In the distance, I see the grand piano. It doesn’t look like it washed up; it looks like it has been there all along, part of the sand. I walk these beaches every morning, though, so I know that it’s always there. As I reach out to play a chord, I think l know why it’s there, too.

The sound is deafening. Even above the waves, I can hear the song I’m playing. A song from my childhood, when I was ...

The westerlies blow like a mighty lions roar as I walked silently through the beach grass. The beach grass is the best dancer on this side of Biloxi. The grass dances as though it has something to be joyful about every day. It swiftly rises and falls on my ankles as I look towards the Gulf. Never know quite what the weathers going to down here in Mississippi. I see some small sand crabs as I walk ...

A western wind picked up early that morning. Infusing the ocean waters with heightened enthusiasm. It spoke to her in a way as she sat there, watching the roughness of it all. Dawn was surly approaching, the faint, dappled glow of the sun's rays just barely visible. Still, she could make out the growing waves eager to flood the shores, but alas, the hour was low, so they waited. Building energy wh...

Hyacinth loved her little early walks on the beach. It was her favorite time of the day, when she could hear her own thoughts and feel the sea breeze on her skin. But this was no ordinary day, and the messiness began early.

She noticed something akin to a piano near the waves, but thought it was her mind playing tricks. Who would put a freaking piano so close to the waves? She decided to get a li...

It looked out of place I thought for a moment,

And I wondered why was it there?

Then thought how it actually makes perfect sense,

Now that I see it so clear.

The ocean makes music, Sweet to the ear,

It sways and it dances with the wind and the sand,

It rolls and it twists to make sounds and rhythms,

And plays with the rocks and turtles and fishes.

If I could define the sound of the ocean to some...