The sky was vibrant, Cumunoloblus clouds darted the background like flecks of distant grey and white brushstrokes, which reflected in the small rock pools near the ocean. A warm, salty scent of deep fried goodness mingled with the salty tang of the sea -- something that promises sunburned cheeks and memories to be made. Screeching cries and calls of the flock of mischievous Seagulls, low, crashing noises were the regular. Sand stuck to the palms of many hands. This place was like no other, a sacred haven, a burgeoning, yet isolated beach. This was Shelly beach.