Sea Lion Shores a road in louveciennes

He came upon the empty shore quite by accident - or so he thought, with his mind a-flutter with the beauty surrounding him. It was a very hot day upon the coast. The heat coaxed the wind in to dancing carelessly across the and, whipping the sea in to a frenzy, though he would not have seen it. The air buffed at him, pulling at his coat of flyaways and toussling what once was a well groomed figure. Renoir stood upon the sand with a foolish - or maybe mad - grin upon his face, feeling the force of nature billowing around him, and finding it exhilarating. 

The boy had wound his was across the coast for a couple of days now, and even upon discovering a river, he had crossed it with no uncertainty. What he was faced with now was new, it was bizarre, and like the cliffside he was not sure of how close he should get in his observations. The closer he thought he was to the sea, the further it seemed to fall away - he had no knowledge of the tide, nor the dire consequences of being out upon the salted flat when the water returned upon itself.

There were beasts abound along the shore; some keeling in the air, calling out as he had witnessed from the bluff. Still there were others, larger things, exorbitant with their roundness and deep voices both. From afar he thought they were merely boulders - Renoir had passed by many closer to the shore - but the closer he got, the louder they seemed, and the more animated they became. Had he ever seen a seal before? Non! This was not even a seal, but a great lion! It bellowed to him in a challenging way, and Renoir was tempted by foolish glee to bay and howl in response. His calls could be heard across the strand, and did little to frighten the beasts he so stupidly tempted.