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 whipped up by the wind.

Sarah got to her feet and gently brushed the sand from her thighs and calves. Dusting her hands off too as she began the walk back to the car. A morning ritual gone suddenly existential.

Wind blew through her hair, eager and quickly passing. Like time ticking away on a grand master clock. The low rumbling of vast volumes of water, itching to unleash itself, ready to break the tide and expose its power. Like a woman, abattle with the troubles within, noting her eagerness for change.

Bare and damp, her pruning feet carry her heavy soul through the granules of sand. An orange flare breaks the horizon, and already she can feel its warmth across her exposed cheek. As if Mother Nature herself reached across the ocean and laid a simple loving hand upon her flesh. Calming the mind and guiding her heart to heal the toumoial within. Her eyes close, letting the warmth wash over her as she continues onward, through her inner battle and along the cooling sand beneath. A deep breath of salt and oxygen fills her, lifts her up, and she feels lighter for it.

Then suddenly, the air is taken from her. Expelled on sudden inpact. She gasps, replacing the stolen air, and her eyelids instinctively jerk open. Revealing that she has strolled right into the corner of a piano.

Holding her sore stomach, she turns, squinting out around her, looking for an explanation. Effort that reveals she remains on the beach alone.

The intricacy of the wood carvings... No, stone? Reaching out a gentle hand, she traces the edge of the frame. Feeling its cool, hard, yet smooth surface. A baby grand piano made of coral. Expertly crafted, adorning swirling waves and branches that resemble the soft corals of the ocean.

Another quick glance around, and she notes that the sand surrounding it exposes not a single footstep. No sign of the expected effort needed to transport such a heavy piece. It’s all so odd and yet beautiful.

The wind picks up, and she realizes how still everything had been until then. A sudden flurry of sand and salt, and air whip up around her, and shes staggering forward. Urged by nature, she clutches the frame above the keys. Holding tight in the uproar of air, earth, and suspended salt water.

There, surrounded by chaos, she hears a melody. Soft and gentle, coming from the piano itself. The keys on the keyboard play themselves, and the pedals move in conjunction. The strings are struck again and again, vibrating. Carrying the sweet melody that fills her very soul, and she feels herself craving its sound. Then suddenly it stops, and she’s standing before the baby piano, breathless, in the restless silence. Nothing plays.

Hesitantly, she reaches for a key and presses it down softly but with intention. Hungry for its sound. Before she realizes what she’s doing, she’s playing a second note. Followed by a third, fourth, fifth. Each one flowing into the next, her fingers moving as if she knew this rhythm down to her very core. The memory strung throughout her muscles, vibrating with each note.

Once again, the wind picks up, and the sound of her music swirls and mingles with the salt and sand as it’s all whipped up again. Time is nothing, thoughts play no role here. She’s dancing, her body rocking with the sound her fingers can’t help but play. She’s watching herself, feels the enjoyment of it, and it takes her completely.

Sarah does not notice the water moving. She's alone, playing music on the beach. As the water rushes in, the tide growing higher and higher. She does not feel it surrounding her ankles, thighs, stomach. Lifting the sand that anchors the piano. Even if she did, it would not bother her in the least, as euphoric as the melody is. The damn breaks and the energetic waves of the ocean engulf her. As if they are one, she and the piano go floating out deep into the cold waters. All the while she plays, unbothered and unaware of the magic that surrounds her and still yet awaits. The current of the ocean, fueled by her song, carries her as she plays. Pushing her out towards something deep, somewhere ancient.