Mahalapu Beach

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The sea is restless today, heaving on the swells of a storm that passed the island days ago. Waves leap up to lick the chin of the cliffs like joyful puppies, white spray flying up into the wind and cooling my shoulders hot from the sun. Crabs scamper at my feet in the rough pits of black volcanic stone and I can see the tracks of a night fisher bird in a pool of sand.

Waves fill the hollows of bursted air bubbles in the hardened lava, the perfect size for a set of bare feet to bask in. Muscles cling to the wet fissures and occasionally a small fish is seen darting from my shadow.

Ancient hollow lava tubes uncoil beneath my feet and snake through the cliffs to the base  of the hills. Each incoming wave sends a whoosh of air and sound echoing down those chambers as the sea rushes in, and the great sea serpent of Kauai breathes.

The ocean sings, she dances, the beat of waves slapping on stone, the rhythm of inhale, exhale one two three FOUR, a melody of birdsong. The swelling of my belly hears this music too, he dances to the beat traveling up through my legs. I gaze out over the swaying expanse of blue infinity and I smile. It is a wonderful day.

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