Leaning against the white, cold wall. I am standing here. The white wall of the lighthouse. The ocean is loud. The waves go from whisper to roar. I can hear it. Thundering and foaming. High tide comes. I was warned. "Don't go out too far".

But the rocks are tempting.

I am jumping from one to the other. Can't see any people around me. Are they all gone? Out here in this remote area there is only the fishing village, the ocean and me. Finally. Many miles I had to travel for this moment. The lighthouse is standing alone in the middle of all these rocks. There's nothing that could phase it.  

The wind is strong. I feel a gust is pushing me further forward. Against the law of nature, helpless. Still further. "But the tide...", says my head. My heart, however, wanders. I'm breathing fresh air as long as my lungs are full with fresh sea air. Sticky city air, gone. Washed away.

I walk back slowly to the fishing village, back to the people. Everybody knows everybody out here. Many years ago a Swiss plane crashed just a few miles away from the village. Suddenly everybody was talking about the village. That's a long time ago. Now, some people come out here to see the lighthouse while others, like me, come out here to talk with the ocean and be alone.