I am enjoying the special blue that only appears at dusk and the sensualness of it all is accentuated by a dozen, or so, Hula dancers on the shore. The flowers in their hair rotate to continually face the moonlight, to absorb and reflect the glow. This gives the appearance of the women being crowned with moonflowers. Moon glow also falls lovingly on their skin and the light shifts with the slow sensual movement of their bodies as their arms extend and undulate, footsteps move in and out, and full plump hips rise and glide.
This sacred feminine dance is in praise of the ocean, and the voluptuous rhythms of the dancers are also worthy of praise. With each step their feet firmly, but gently, tap the wet sand and create complex drumming rhythms.
A group of alchemists and wisdom keepers are whispering among themselves, concerned that if the hula ever ceases being danced, if hips no longer swing and sway in prayer and praise to the ocean, then the motion of the ocean will also come to a stand still. Then all ebb and flow, give and take, all loving exchange, would come to an end.