The Beauty of a Rainwashed Beach.

The Vast

I looked up as the skies cleared. Vapours crept past me, escaping the wet sand.
Sun shone down upon the huge expanse of liquid glass- dividing the visible world into two neat halves.
The ocean seemed to roar in response, free from the oppressive downpour.

It is then, that I saw them.

“Wait for me!” I cried as I left my semi-drenched friend holding my lopsided umbrella, and ran, ran- as fast as I could. The photo was escaping me. There was no way I’d let it.
My camera was already halfway out of my bag when I felt the moment strike conjunction again. They were on the sweet-spot! Now!

I pressed the shutter-release.
Dang! Did I forget to adjust the aperture and shutterspeed?
But there wasn’t any time to wait. I recomposed and clicked. And clicked more. However, the moment had passed.

The skies had cleared.

Now as I look back at the incident, of how a photo formed in front of my own eyes- in such vivid majestic proportions- before I could think of taking a photo; this experience was something that sends a chill down my spine.

This exhalting feel was truly none other than inspiration.


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