I wandered down to the sea, bucket in hand. My bare feet curved around the shingle until so small they buried the edges of my skin with each step. At the water’s ever changing verge her chill tickles me. The further I go the greater her power. With each wave I am simultaneously swaying yet remaining at a constant point. I place the bucket under the surface. A sub-current curls and crawls solemnly into the bucket, splashing violently as I draw it out of the sea. I battle against the current and the weight of the bucket to obtain stability on the shingle. I place the bucket down, the water ripples and the light of the Sun is bent and moulded by the reverberations. I cup my hands and drown them in the water. As I lift my hands out and throw the water into the air, it transforms into an array of glittering light and floats timelessly in the cloudless sky. The water transcends it’s own matter to become the life it once was; memories and thoughts, dreams and fears, the seen and the unknown. I stare at my shadow, sunk, at the bottom of the bucket and watch as my focus is drawn to the reflection on the surface. The water is perfectly still and as I feel through the water for a second time I realise I have found the dream I was looking for.