At its highest peak.

Appearing serene and gentle while rigid and defined in its unpredictable shape.

Caught between the relentless power of the wind, sun, and moon.

Its boisterous nature is like an oasis rising from a sandy wasteland. Its everchanging mood.

The way its roaring whistle entices and beckons me.

From the sight of the sun first ascending, to the moon’s gradual rise as your eyes fall closed, it is alive as ever.

A whirlpool of irregular movement enveloping the still rocks amongst the sea floor.

The reformed edges of its configuration disappear instantaneously as it unfurls and expands.

When its tranquility has come to an inevitable end, it moves in reverse with a profound intensity of a fierce lion leaping for its prey.

My father always taught me that a mere leap from the sinking sea floor, no matter how fearful I may be, could transport me to a world of vast possibilities.

A phrase that will continue to shape my life in all of its aspects ...