All fell under a spell of respectful silence, but the scene was loud, demanding you to question how such a reckless combination of ocean abusing rock could seem so peaceful.
The rock was archaic, it's contours like wrinkles on a once flawless face, marred by the pestering youth of an endless succession of waves. The ease with which it could made you feel alive while leaving you breathless aroused suspicion of a mere illusion. But the lingering land it had eroded from proved it to be real. The confinements of the earth it escaped from enhanced how free it appeared, yet it was trapped by the authority of a ceaseless ocean. It called for a moment of self-reflection but drained every thought from your mind that was left blank in its wake. It was regal and refined because its fate was rugged and weathered. It was every synonym for beautiful, yet it was indescribable; there were no words to do it justice. It seemed timeless and untouchable, but the tangible threat of the relentless waves showed its innovation would continue.
But the first thing I noticed was how insignificant I felt in the presence of a structure for centuries at the mercy of nature's diligent hand, and yet it was countered with a surge of significance, that of all the sites I've seen this one vision usurped them all, till I felt nothing, and could do nothing, but stare at it.
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