What a Day

     It was one of those perfectly unblemished summer days that we freely imagine and wistfully long for, when the mountain winds caress the warm, sun-baked rocks on a quiet beach. There, gently rolling in, are the waves rising from the dark, cerulean sea tumbling upon the receptive shore. Then the rocks, the rocks that have stood eons as a garrison lining the shore, having withstood both tempest winds and crashing waves, provide a respite for weary wayfarers. 

     It was during this perfect summer day the three major players the wind, the rocks, and the waves, each gave testimony as to why their presence made it so. The wind, huffing and puffing, and always in a hurry, spoke up first, "It seems to me, that to have such a day, my wind needs to be at a certain speed and with just the right amount of force. Otherwise there would be no gently lapping waves, and with too much wind it would produce a blustery day."

    "Well, your winds might blow both strong and weak," replied the rocks in a tarry voice, "but we are the ones, large and small that deflect and direct the winds around this beach. We offer shade and protection from the gust. Without us, there would be no perfect summer day."

    Finally, the waves in a rumbling voice spoke up, "You both have good points about your contributions for such a splendid summer day, but don't forget, it is the force of the waves that can move you, rocks all around this beach.  It is I, who really generates the perfect summer day." With that, all three dramatists once again, resumed claiming credit with slightly elevated voices as to who makes the perfect summer beach day.

    As this cacophony continued, a faint and distant voice could be heard. A fatigued human voice, pleading for help far out on the wide- spread horizon, was noticed first by the perceptive waves. The wind, also sensing danger, alertly looked around and immediately detected a tiny fishing boat. The fisherman waving his arms in desperation, was floundering in the sea. Rushing to the boat, the wind saw it was in disrepair and full of smoke.

 Calling upon his companion the waves, together they cautiously escorted the speck of a fishing vessel towards the shore, where the rocks were waiting for the boats' arrival. Seeing the shore quickly approaching, the fisherman made ready to disembark. He flung his line over the nearest large rock and secured the boat to the boulder. Scrambling to shore the exhausted fisherman looked up at the wind, over at the waves, and leaned feebly against a rock.

    He cocked his head back and was heard to say in a crackling voice, "Thank you, if it wasn't for you waves who first saw me, and you wind who helped steer my boat to shore, and you rocks who secured my boat, it would only have been a matter of time before I would have perished on the open sea. I know that the three of you working together saved my life, thank you, thank you, thank you," said the grateful fisherman. 

    In a flash of realization, the wind acknowledged that just as the three elements collaborated together to rescue the man they also together create, the optimal beach day.

"If one of us is missing, then there is no perfect day," chimed in the waves.

"We are all important and play a role," said the rocks.

   So, next time you are outdoors to appreciate such an occurrence, know it is nature working all her elements in harmony resulting in those perfect summer days.