She closed her book with a sigh. The early autumn breeze rippled through the rapidly-changing leaves of the tree in her backyard. The sun was getting close to setting; I should probably go back inside soon, she thought to herself. She could hear the whistle of her kettle going off inside. Maybe there was enough time to enjoy her tea before the sunlight ran out.

In no hurry, she climbed out of her hammock and slid open the screen door to go inside. Soon enough, it would be too cold to keep the door open in the evenings. She would enjoy the warm weather while it lasted, though she didn’t mind the cold.

She poured herself a cup of tea. Chamomile, her favorite. She hurried back out to the patio to sip her tea in the hammock. She always loved watching the sun set, ever since she was a kid. It helped calm her down, especially after the most stressful days. Today wasn’t one of those days, but the peace that it brought her was never unwelcome.

Sunlight danced through the leaves of her tree, casting shadows that darted on the ground like a school of fish in a vast ocean. Her gently swaying hammock was a boat in that ocean, bobbing in harmony with the gentle waves pushing against it.

It reminded her of being at the beach in the summer; better days, she thought. It seemed so long ago to her. So much had happened since then.

Nonetheless, she allowed herself to be transported back to her joyful memories of walking along the beach in the evenings, taking in the fresh ocean breeze and collecting whatever colorful shells tickled her fancy. She still had that collection, now relegated to gathering dust in a jar next to the bathtub. Perhaps she would clean them off and display them somewhere more prominent, especially as the harsh winter months rolled ever closer. Maybe some other time.

Sometimes, she would come across the odd seaweed that had washed up on the shore during her walks. She could imagine they looked much prettier in the water than they did on dry land. Sometimes her dog would like to play with the branches, though it annoyed her that she’d have to clean the sand and grime off her dog later.

She remembered how she used to go the beach sometimes simply to be there, to feel the warm, sun-baked sand between her toes and listen to the rhythmic beating of the waves on the shore. She thought that she’d enjoyed the lack of responsibility most of all, the carefree feeling of showing up somewhere with nothing really to do. Sometimes she’d bring a book to read, or sometimes she’d just show up and soak up the sun and warmth.

She’d really enjoyed gazing into the ocean. She thought the deep blue of the water was the most beautiful color she’d ever seen. It held so much promise for her, as if it were hiding something underneath its surface for her to discover.

It was almost like music to her, the deep resonance on the horizon complementing the shrill breaks of the waves on the shore.

Here were the light strings of a gull, flapping its wings with an uplifting melody. No, not a melody, a simple motif. It rose up high, dipped down low, circled around itself in repeats. Now and again it would come across another motif, and fly in harmony for a few flitting moments before separating again. Once, twice, three times before fading away gently.

There was the shiny, bold brass of boats, bobbing in unison with the music yet making themselves heard with their tall sails and striking colors. Stoically, their bright interludes punctuated the smooth horizon. Their sounds evolved, progressed as they passed through the water; sometimes, over just a few bars, and other times, from the first note to the last.

Sometimes, she wished she could go out there, on her own little trumpet tune, and experience the whole symphony uninterrupted. Maybe one day, she told herself.

She took the last sip of her tea and set the cup down on her lap. She sat there momentarily, pondering about nothing in particular. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, and its last rays were already fading from the sky.

With a sigh, she climbed out of her hammock, taking one last look at the horizon before making her way inside. It was time to prepare dinner. Before long, memories of the beach were replaced by thoughts of food. Yet, throughout the night, she just couldn’t seem to shake the little melody playing in her head.