LETTER

I spent many days coming to watch the sea barely skimming the sand. I spent years coming on the beach behind my house. I have spent all my life watching this great stretch of water. I spent my sunny winter days sitting in the wet sand, even when the weather was grey or when rain and thunder threatened the atmosphere. I always came to take refuge on this beach. Letting myself being carried away in the contemplation of the immensity of the unknown. Yet I come to sit near the water as if it was my guardian angel and not a danger.

Very recently, I wondered why I loved this place so much. There is nothing extraordinary though. It's just a beach at the back of a cottage. There are no exotic palm trees or flower trees, nor big and beautiful houses facing it. No, there is none of this. Nothing special; and yet as far as I remember, I took my first steps on this dull sand. Because this sand is neither yellow gold or black ashes, but dark yellow being verging on grey. As far as I can remember, I have lived all my best memories on this beach. I saw thousands of smiles. I heard all kinds of laughter. I felt tears running at the same time as the rain hit the waves that came crashing down on the high cliffs.

But even if the sea is only a stretch of water, it has such power over you that it can no longer be a simple stretch of salt water.

In fact, its visual doesn't really change. It's its odor and the aura around it that change. In winter, it has the smell of iron. In spring, the one of freshness, like when you smell clean clothes. In summer, the breeze coming from the west brings thousands of different odors: an exquisite scent of fruit and flower. Then in the fall, the typical red flowers from this season give a slight bitter smell to the atmosphere.

And I tell myself that society is not very different from this sea. Life is not different from this water. Every day, I see different smiles appearing on people's lips. Happy smiles. Sad smiles. Malicious smiles. Bad smiles. Fake smiles. Every day, I hear the laughter accompanied by the unpleasant and loud noises of the city. Some are discreet and shy. Others lively and full of life. Sometimes, among this sea of faces, misfortune meets happiness. The tears that flow in the rain and mingle with the salt water of the sea turn into heavy and silent drops that slowly run down the cheeks. This invisible sadness faces the dazzling light of joy. That living being walks without a real destination in the opposite direction of the flow. And every day, the life of those thousands of faces continue to die without anyone paying any real attention.

Then, like every season that can change the aura of my beach, life also changes disguise. In winter, human affection is as cold as snowflakes falling from the sky. In spring, everyone comes back to you, a warm smile welcoming you as if yesterday hadn't happened. In summer, the hot heat of the sun and the warm breeze try to make you forget the mistakes of the past. As for autumn, it makes disappear little by little the mask that spring and summer tried to create. And like an incessant cycle, this show is set up every year, without anyone daring to do anything. Without anyone facing life.

So it doesn't matter what sea we face; whether it is filled with thousands and thousands of cubic meters of water or whether it is a famous avenue trodden by thousands of people, because when we find ourselves in the middle of it, we realize how much we are and will be forever small, insignificant and alone. No matter who we are.