Once upon a time there was a valley, with its head high in the clouds and its toes wading in the sea. High mountains rose on every side around the water. They were carved in sky as blue as the sea.
And it was quiet. The world was as smooth as a mirror. So quiet that it was impossible to differentiate between above and below. Tranquillity hugged the mountains like a thick fog. It felt like smothering, a sleep so deep.
But on the horizon appeared a breath. Like sails of a ship, it rolled over the sea. A breath like a spiral, dividing the world in waves and wind. And for a moment, everything felt as sweet as freshly gained freedom.
The wind blew and started to have a life of its own. Fast and slow. Clouds, rain and thunderstorms came into existence. Hot and cold fronts wanted to go everywhere, stirring the world at their feet.
The waves tumbled at the rhythm of their newly acquired freedom. The sea was teeming with life. Water and foam travelled far to the beaches and mountain peaks.
At first the land was not sure what to do with all this. His mirror image lost under the constant influence of a thousand impulses. The land no longer knew who it was. Hot and cold twirled on the surface, among all imaginable colours. The individual cycles of dying and being reborn were getting in the way of each other. And once again there was that feeling of suffocating. Life could not breathe in this chaos of abundance. The world started to lose oneself.
But wind and waves met for the first time since their creation. Their touch rippled through the world as a shock wave. A deep breath returned to the coast. Wind and waves tiptoed into each other's wavelength and took their first steps in each other's natural cycle.
And spring took her first careful steps on the ice. Multi-coloured life celebrated on the lands. Shortly after, summer took the lead. With his green warmth he conquered the heart of the world. But it was fall that melted all those hearts in her breath-taking way. Red clouds rolled over the sea, feet hidden in fog. A cold air that made the land surrender. Now the path was cleared for winter, who demanded his respect with white.
It was there, on the ice at the end of the world, that wind and waves looked each other in the eyes and said full of faith, "let's do this again."
And it was so that wind and waves lived in harmony. Perfectly balanced on that delicate point between peace and passion.
A love story, read at our wedding ceremony.