You are on your bed and wake up before the alarm rings, you play the 4 seconds rule to avoid your brain’s sabotage and jump off the bed, get changed in no time, sweep to find your car keys and without noticing you are on the road, is just a six minutes ride, you knew it beforehand. You arrive at the beach, leave your shoes behind and start walking in the humid and cold sand, under the darkened sky, the clouds draw shapes and figures on the horizon, just behind the trees flanking the sandy path. You follow the sound of the waves, with their unsynchronised rhythm, until the dune allows you to see them, and there you are looking at the endless horizon that divides the goldish water from the ever-changing sky. The clouds fight hard to hide the sun behind, which fights back spilling thousand mystical rays through them as it rises up. There is a feast of oranges, blues, and yellows, sounds of birds, and low-level flights to benefit from the currents. You sit on the sand, and listen, and see, and recharge, as the sundial goes up, slow but fast, shy but strong. There is awakening and energy, there is calm and focus, and there is nature at its best. Grateful for this, every now and then.