One last post from Birubi Beach. Such a magical place, especially when it is empty. OK, I cheated a bit and took out the few people that were present, but there really weren't many there. There was more wind that on the last visit and the sound of the surf was louder. If you looked carefully (you can't see it in these photos), you could just make out a cloud of mist hovering above the breaking surf.
It is a place of serenity and humbleness. I've never seen a beach so long and wide that you really couldn't see anything but beach.
The sound of the waves mask your thoughts and the intrusion of others. Part of the magic of this place is to isolate you in the most exposed way possible. This contradiction creates an enchanted feeling. In Tchaikovsky's ballet, the scene where we watch the graceful birds transform into beautiful women before our eyes on stage to the sounds to his glorious music feels a bit like sitting on this beach. The music is the surf and the transformation is inside you. No one sees it happen, but you know, You know.
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