The Seven Sisters are chalk cliffs in East Sussex, England.
They're cliffs shaped by the movement of air and water. They're cliffs that bear testament to the power of Nature.
I had sat on the limestone cliff, feet dangling. The seagulls, with their soaring cries and extended wings, seemed so happy. They were crying with pleasure while gliding on breezes.
I was insanely jealous. What if I were to spread and flap my arms? Would I, like them, soar? Would I be able to cry with pleasure and glide on breezes too?
I imagined myself dropping down the white cliffs the way a turkey would drop and turning into a pancake of blood and bones. Hence, I managed to curb the temptation to leap off.
The place was just ... spiritual.
Along the shores, there were barnacles, anemones, shrimps, fishes and seaweed. It was exciting, to discover this pristine stretch teeming with life.
East Coast Park, by comparison, seemed tame and its beaches, overly manicured.
What an amazing abundance of textures - angular and organic, straight and spiral, smooth and rough. What a surprising buffet of colours - ochre, white, grey, veridian and beige.
Every texture and every colour resonate with quiet beauty.
Rivulets of water flowed between sand dunes and light rippled with its every movement.
No painting or photograph could ever be this perfect. Nature is the best artist among us all.
Sitting atop the cliff after combing the treasures-laden beach... it was a spiritual experience. I've never tasted such serene joy.