On our first day at Morro Bay, we took a casual stroll towards the beach. This was our first stop of the road trip after leaving LA.
While I was totally absorbed in the setting sun and dusky light behind Morro Rock, a young man walked up next to us. As if there was no one else around, he started to throwing pebbles into the sea.
A conversation started shortly after, though I cannot remember how, or who started it.
He comes here almost everyday with his father, for shark fishing, something they've been doing since he was a boy. His mother died of cancer a year ago, he still comes to the beach with his father just as often as before. Only his father continues to fish, he started throwing beach pebbles into the ponding waves.
"Those are my prayers, they carry my whispers to my mother".
"I talk to her every time when I come here, so she won't miss me too much".
After he finished talking to his mother, I turned away from the rock, aimed at the direction where he had stood, took the last frame of the day, looking out towards the sea and the worlds beyond our souls.