Joyful Moments: Summers by the Seaside

The most beautiful memories in life are those shared with another person, which are simple and they are memories that are inherently good, that perpetuate their essence through the timeless act of narration, that survive any tumult or change in life, any obsession with present worries.

Looking at life this way, you realize that the past is still accessible, at least through memories. It has already been “lived,” but can be relived now, even so, in a different way, more passive yet still soothing, through memory.

Memories resurface in my mind, and the summer days spent by the seaside come back to my thoughts like a nostalgic perfume.

In those times, my childhood came to life in the gentle sunlight and the playful breeze of the sea. On those sunny days, I used to walk barefoot on the fine, hot sand, feeling it slip through my fingers and carry me into a world of endless adventures. In each grain of

sand, untold stories and promises of happy moments were hidden.

My mother and I, built sandcastles, giving life to imaginary cities where our imagination and creativity found expression. With our hands in the wet sand, we laughed and enjoyed the time spent together surrounded by the sound of the sea. The waves attracted us like a magnet, and our play with them was an unforgettable embrace. In those moments, time seemed to stand still.

The deepest memories etched in my soul are the sunsets by the sea. When the sun prepared to embrace the sea, the sky bloomed in a palette of warm colors. The golden and orange rays cascaded over the calm waters, creating a magical atmosphere where

time and space merged into a fleeting eternity. In those moments, my soul was filled with joy and innocence, and the horizon of the future was full of promises and fulfilled dreams.

In those sunsets, I felt that I was both small and immense at the same time.

These experiences were once a present, a vivid and immediate one, felt by every atom within me. But it would be an injustice to consider them distant, because in my mind, they are alive, they emotionally affect me, and I feel them as a part of myself; moreover, I feel these memories as a part of us.

I confirm this every time I speak with my mother, and

each of us relives those moments through memory.

By bringing them into the present, they, to some extent, become a part of the present, bringing value to the interaction, and they are the vital part of life. It would be absurd to say that the past or the future does not matter.