A day before Full Moon (Nature)

The moon like a flower
In heavens high bower
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night...
by William Blake

Under the moonlit sky the surf runs amongst the rocks. Tempted for a swim, yet I would not go in. The grainy sand sinks from the weight of my footsteps leaving imprints on the coral floor. Brown seaweed lies dead across the beach. Cool crisp breezes blow with soothing sprays. Out in the channel the lights flicker,
green...red...white

I should shed my clothes and in my nakedness enter into the ocean; my solace is there.

I stand on the shoreline, while the moon plays hide and seek with the clouds. The languid water crawls to my feet teases and pulls back...

I want to submerge, but the wind kisses me through my garments and beckons me to stay. The moon shine ripples of crystal on the ocean, then sending his softness on the rocks that guards the bay. There in the bosom of nature I stand, white suds created from the light rolls.

Lightning! A quick whip of light lit the clouds in the left. I've not observed the ring around the moon just yet so hopefully no rain...

Stars are falling from the sky, one, two...

While the shore answers yes to the waves, my body answers to the thought of getting wet from streamlet of ocean kisses.

AOP

Rocky Haven (Observation)

Surf play in the rocks. Gurgling sounds in crescendo and diminuendo when the surf retreats to the ocean floor. Chiming crickets and whistling frogs alarm the night. Stars! Galaxies! Reflect in small pools in the rocks. White surf splashes light through thickness of the night. Clouds scarce in the vastness of the sky. Moon, I can't seem to find that half sleeping moon, but I am inspired by the constant dazzling constellations.

White breakers beat against rocks. A satellite blinking across the sky interrupting natures charm, it has red light signals. It appears to be taking a reading. A major distraction!
Back to the stars and the surf. The sky bleeds darkness into the ocean and the stars becomes the surf and the surf rise to the sky and become stars. The ocean in its majesty roaringly claps on the rocks.  Sometimes the ocean resembles soothing yet lamenting cries. Crickets pluck, frogs exhale, but the ocean drowns their sounds when its surging in.

My retreat, ah; the crickets and frogs are wondrous violinists.

Fluffy pillows of clouds cover some of the stars ; a thick white blanket was suddenly spread across the sky drawing a close to the starry night; yet patches of stars peak through tiny spying holes to let in a flicker of light.  The sky cries little translucent beads of rain. The surroundings have become inhospitable .