When the sun sets over the ocean, the sky becomes a deep blue, and the clouds light up with pink. The clouds seem to follow the sun in its descent. They drop to the bottom part of the sky too, and the entire scene is split into five parts: sky, clouds, sun, ocean and rock. The heavy blue of the sky seems to impregnate the air, blanketing everything in its colour. It's no longer just the sky and ocean that share that azure. The once brown and grey rocks have also become a dreamy violet-indigo-blue. The wind picks up, and the salty scent is thicker, but the air feels crisper and fresher. There are few people in the evening by the ocean. This means less noise interrupting the rhythmic wash of the waves and the crashing impacts against rock. The seagulls have too retreated into their small caverns, nowhere to be seen. It is at this time where the sand is colder than usual, and the rocks stay wetter for longer than usual. It is at this time when I balance on the protrusion of a large rock and breathe in the air that is full of scents. It is when I feel my runners getting wetter and wetter, but I am too entranced by the evening sea to pay any heed. It is then when I imagine myself diving into the water and allowing myself to be pushed around by the powerful waves. I imagine myself sinking into those chilly depths and letting everything be washed away into nothing. What would I be feeling then? Will I feel relieved, liberated and exhilarated? Or will I feel cold, helpless and alone?