Tidal to the Heavens

Victoria Shi

The whim to hike was bounced back and forth a few times, until suddenly we found ourselves in the car one clear December morning, with the barest necessities in the boot.

Hot tunes spilled out of our windows and left a blazing trail on the freeway behind us, roaring green fields quickly sprawled out in our peripherals, a dazzling interplay with the cradle of the sapphire sky.

The roadside signs leading into the camp offered more information than we had bothered to research, and little did we know what would ensue. A swift scour of the campsite revealed many chill-natured campers with their assorted campervans from all walks of life. We picked Lot 374, ours for the night.

A pitched tent, lined sleeping bags, hanging lamps, and we were on our way. "To Squeaky Beach, because your feet squeak on the sand."

The ineffable scene unfurled slowly.

tidal 3.png — verdant bush

opened into a copper river….

the copper river

lead to towering grey boulders…

a wedge of azure

next to the beige sandbank was almost overlooked, we were so absorbed in the swaying foliage.

The path curled; the sliver of blue grew; squeals of summer nonchalance rose from tiny figures.

Suddenly there was only blue.

Above us no clouds dotted the cobalt sky, beneath us was the wide expanse of a glittering turquoise coastline, softly sweeping the white sandbank, flush against proud emerald mountains.

tidal 11.png — it was impossible to continue;

pausing at every rocky outcrop, the world and whatever mattered condensed solely into the universe's whispered promises lingering just over the edge of these stone thrones.

We danced and lay and cartwheeled, our laughs mingling with traces of salty air.

Detours through cracked boulders and we finally made it to the shore. With utter glee we frolicked and pranced on the sand; the signature squeaks beneath our shoes.