His little heart beats with excitement as he walks down the beach towards the waves. To where the sloping sand bank and sea meet. The water is drawn out to form the next upsurge exposing the wet foreshore. He stands at the line where wet sand meets dry. He knows this is where his toes will be bathed by the salty water. The wave crashes down onto the seafloor and the white foam rushes up the slope to cover his excited feet with cool water from the Indian Ocean. He squeals with delight as his feet disappear. The wet sand sucks his toes down, under its surface, with a squelch he flicks them up sending sand flying.
His happy giggles mend the world just for a short time.
He could stay here all day, watching the ebb and flow. We walk along the coast letting the waves wash in and out over our feet. He is so happy, no bucket, no spade, just him and the waves.
We look back, his small footprints in the sand mark his growing love for the freedom of the ocean.
His ocean, Your ocean, Our ocean.