I was there, standing there like an old tree, feeling the breeze, watching  the waves. And she was there like something my eye was the only one to see. The tide was low. We could walk and look at the dead fish thrown away by the morning storm. The sea was still rough, the sky was pale blue, the sun golden. The gulls were bored crying and sat on water like in a kind of rocking chair. They all moved slowly -- up and down, away and to the east. The worms could be seen through the earth, the trees talked, their leaves making a word-like sound. The world was old and fresh. The feeling was new. Then the wind changed its direction, the clouds hid the sun, and then suddenly showed it again -- new born and heavy. It was silent. Then we heard the wind and then the trees and the waves and the gulls. Everything came back, new born and happy. We walked hand in hand with the sea. Not alone now.