When I was younger, my grandmother used to take me to the seaside every summer. We would leave early in the morning, before the sun came up. She always brought a large basket with bread, cheese, and cold chicken for our lunch. I remember the smell of the sea as we got closer. One year, we found a small beach hidden behind some tall rocks. There was nobody else there — just us and the birds. My grandmother smiled and said we should keep it to ourselves. We went back to that same spot every year after that, until I finished school and moved to the city for work. Now, whenever I catch the smell of the sea, I think of her and those quiet, early mornings we shared.