It really is. Watching the sun’s last dying rays explode out of an ever changing bank of clouds. Mauve, red, unimaginable shades of crimson streaking across the sky while the waves themselves reflect the colours in sympathy, before swiftly descending into black. I love the rhythm of the ocean, so constant yet so different. My alone time, my time to bring peace to my mind, sitting on a rock on Marine Drive at dusk, simply watching, breathing and blanking my mind. The crabs play out their little dramas in front of me while the ocean beckons endlessly. A train thunders past, the carriage lights reflecting inside my glasses, kaleidoscoping against the ocean and the sunset panorama. A vision that not the most potent MDMA could replicate. The aching darkness left after the train flurries past. There is no need for a soundtrack, thoughts, loves lost or any base needs. There is only the Indian Ocean, the horizon and my insignificant self. A humbling and liberating experience.