The Sea at Night
Playing Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 lately, which is set on a seaside town, is reminding me of how nice the sea at night is.
I've already talked about my relationship with being born on an island, so I won't dwell on that.
Tomifumi, the town the game is set in, isn't anything to scream about: it's got a hostel owned by the protagonist's relatives, a playground, lots of greenery and a ferry to get the hell outta there. In comparison, I was born at the center of the world. What I find extremely alluring is the depiction of the same places at night: the cicadas cry incessantly, accompanied by the sound of the waves, everything is really, very dark, except for the view streetlights here and there (I think it's just one in the playground) and the lights at home. It reminds me of the beach house where I used to spend my childhood with my grandparents and cousins, the same one where I go back in the summer to have a quiet time among nothing and no one.
I like the sea at night: from the port, from town, but especially from a deserted beach. I like the darkness, the waves crashing on the sand, knowing everything that might hurt you is either elsewhere or deep inside water. The air feels different, way different than it is during the day, when everybody is having fun on the beach and kids are running about, splashing and playing games screaming. The sea during the day has a mask that falls off at dusk, and beneath that there's someone you can sit with and just calm down and sigh.
I like the sea at night when no one is there, but I also like to keep all my organs intact and in a non-harvested state, so I tend not to take a stroll alone too often even when I can. It's easier to do so in videogames, though.