Night Tide Conditioning

Night deepens along the coast. The dark basalt beneath my boots is rough, jagged, and uncompromising. Exactly what I require. I set a wide stance upon the rim of a tide pool, feeling the salt spray mist against my face. A sudden swell rushes the rock ledge, churning white foam around my ankles. I do not budge. My balance holds firm against the tug of the Pacific tide, testing friction and weight against the dark stone. A small shore crab scurries past my foot, seeking refuge in a crevice. Solid ground, earned through vigilance.