Periodically waves crashed and receded. The fishermen followed suit, jumping away and receding again. Waves and fishermen in sync jumping and receding, a scene of ebb and flow.
When I came upon this sight, only the steadfast fisherman was there. It was a solemn scene of one casting into the sunset. Then, his friends arrived, and the scene changed dramatically. I observed their silhouetted figures, animated in conversation. Heads turned and nodded, then tilted back with laughter.
I sat from afar, weighing the feeling of the lone fisherman versus the feeling of the friends fishing together. Both different, both equally valuable.
Maybe because I was alone, the value of 'the friends fishing' outweighed the value of the 'lone fisherman.' As I pondered, my eyes wandered, looking back to the crashing waves. As time went by, I found solace in the ebb and flow of life. Sometimes I am alone, sometimes I am not. Both different, both equally valuable.
The breeze grew cool, and the sky went dark. I looked back to the now lone fisherman, reeling in his line and climbing off into the night.