ASMR Indian Accent The SeaShore

I have composed a small write-up on the psyche of different landscapes and talked a little about my love for the sea. Hope listening to it is a soothing experience. Cheers! Summary: Ten years ago, I lived among trees. The world was lush and quiet, populated by deers and monkeys, outlined by ferns and creepers. It sounds peaceful, and in many ways, it was. And then I moved to the seashore. Here, as soon as I get within sensory reach of the ocean—whether it’s to smell the salt air, hear the boom-hiss of breaking waves, or scan out to the distant horizon—a deep tide of ease rises in me, bringing both clarity and contentment. Not everyone feels this way. For some, the same echo of water on sand brings mild panic; the open water stretches into vast loneliness and not comfort. So what draws so many of us to gaze out over the waves—while others prefer to go to higher grounds for the company of pine trees or the shelter of steep mountains? The rhythmic sound of the waves is thought to calm us; when I wake in the night and I catch that distant sound through an open window, I turn over and close my eyes. But not everyone is lulled to sleep this way. In the open ocean, I’m aware of how insignificant I am. “It’s humbling and enriching and empowering and many, many feelings at once.” The ocean can be both a source of life, and a source of danger. It’s the place life came from, and the place some of us return to at life’s close. Our prospect and our refuge; our past and our future. If I wake early and walk along the shore, I’ll sometimes see the ocean’s edge as a true refuge. For me, the shelter of the ocean is the view itself, the prospect is what it lets me imagine—that I could keep on going, if only I knew how, all the way to the other side.