The beach was silent and empty that night.

Not even the whisper of a wave intruded on his senses. The wind reached out to caress him, but he ignored her siren song. Today he would not dance. Today he could not.

Still he heard the ring of her bells. On her feet. The way she stomped, he heard rather than saw the sinuous movement of her body. She tempted him, but she always had.

And always he had resisted. For as long as the winds blew, he would resist her siren call. Sometimes he danced with her, but never did he lie with her.

No matter how much she wanted to.

Today though, he could not answer her siren call. Today, something else was more important. Today, was something he had waited for.

Today, the tide would return.

All around him, he heard the wind whisper and dance. Heard her stomping her feet, shaking her hips, rolling her head. Her jewellry was loud, as were her movements. But louder still was his desire for the tide to return. So he kept his eyes closed.

The dust got into his nose, and he sneezed. He rubbed his nose, and it was then that he caught the moisture in the air. The very texture of the air had changed.

Before he could return to his contemplation, something was thrown at him. It hit him square in the face. His eyes flew open and he got to his feet. He was furious.

She stood far away from him, coconuts laid out in front of her in curious stacks. Not just any coconuts, but brown ones, those that were old. She waved at him, and then with the roar of water, turned and disappeared.

He never did see the waves that claimed him. They drowned him in an instant. No one else was around to hear the story of the dancing wind and the stubborn ascetic.

Not when the land is barren and the seas have gone.