By Curtis Jones
Your skin tingles with the almost imperceptible drop in temperature as you step out from the forest canopy. A low growl rises on a damp wind alluding to something powerful, something primal just out of view. With every step, you feel anticipation building in your chest, mirroring the energy of the waves formed miles off the coast. Gulls surf turquoise surges, pitching with each new push; taking flight just long enough to wait out the biggest of rollers, before settling back down for another set. Somewhere on the horizon, a storm is building. You know, even before the brooding clouds move in, you can smell the change in the air. Breaking over a low rise you catch the first glimpse of your saltwater quarry. With the sun hanging low, yellow light dances over the dark undulating water, giving it the appearance of liquid gold. The sea has many tales to tell, what will yours be?