The deep red liquid swirled around the glass as I nervously sat watching pedestrians walk by outside of the rain flecked windows. The restaurant picked was expensive and somewhere I would have only dreamed of going before. Merlot seemed a safe pick for the evening as I felt it went with everything and I had no idea what was served here. I came early, being the anxious, over-prepared type, thinking that I could get an idea of what to order ahead of time. That idea was quickly flushed as they preferred to only present me with the drink menu until my date arrived.
The Waves at Waimea
The thunderous waves beat on the shore with such intensity you would've thought they were trying to cause physical harm to the sand. The shore break was intimidating to even those who could swim really well, with it waves that reached up as if to try and grab the clouds before crashing back down again. I stood as the foamy waterline, as wave after wave rushed across the sand and covered my feet. Looking out past the waves on the shoreline the ocean seemed so calm, still almost with only slight bubbling ripples to disturb that stillness. It made me question where the force behind the waves was coming from. It was as if some invisible giant were out standing in the water trying to splash everyone on the dry beach, just as a little child would in a pool trying to splash his siblings. Very few people were out swimming around past the waves' deadly yet inviting grip. It took a lot of focus and even more exertion to get out there; I had never done it yet, but was a fair swimmer and intended to try one of these trips.