剛踏上碼頭的石板路，就有股帶著棱角的風撞過來。我下意識地按住被吹亂的頭發，指縫間漏過的氣流帶著咸澀的氣息，把行李箱滾輪碾過路面的咕嚕聲都揉碎了。遠處的浪濤正在礁石間翻涌，白花花的浪沫被風撕成碎片，揚到半空又簌簌落下，像是天空在撒一把碎鹽。

民宿的老板娘說這是換季的季風，帶著海深處的涼意。推開二樓房間的窗時，風突然變得溫順，貼著臉頰溜進衣領，掀起衣角的瞬間，把城市里帶來的尾氣味、打印機油墨味、地鐵里的汗味，一股腦兒卷了出去。我趴在窗臺上看海，風掠過發梢時帶著細微的拉扯感，像是有雙無形的手在輕輕梳理打結的思緒。樓下的晾衣繩上掛著藍白條紋的床單，被風吹得鼓起飽滿的弧度，拍打在竹竿上發出啪嗒啪嗒的響，倒比任何鬧鐘都更讓人安心。

午后帶著書去沙灘，剛撐開遮陽傘就被風掀翻了三次。索性把傘收起來，任風把書頁吹得嘩嘩作響。有幾縷碎發粘在嘴角，嘗到淡淡的咸味，才驚覺海風早已悄悄漫過了所有防備。抬眼望見遠處的沖浪板在浪尖起伏，風推著浪花把板托起，又猛地摔進谷里，沖浪者的歡呼被風送過來，碎成星星點點的快樂。我合上書往海邊走，褲腳被風灌得鼓鼓囊囊，像是揣了兩只透明的氣球。

礁石叢里坐著個寫生的老人，畫架被幾塊石頭壓著，顏料盤里的鈷藍和鈦白被風吹得結了層薄痂。“這風啊，能把心里的灰都吹干凈。” 他蘸著海水調顏料時，風掀起他花白的胡須，“年輕時在廠里當會計，天天對著賬本憋氣，后來退了休來這兒，才知道人該像海沙似的，讓風隨便吹。” 我順著他的目光看向海面，風正推著浪往岸邊跑，把一串貝殼送到我們腳邊，其中一枚玉白色的殼上，還沾著被風刻出的細密紋路。

傍晚去懸崖上的觀景臺，風突然變得強勁起來。我扶著銹跡斑斑的護欄往下看，海浪在崖底撞出雪堆似的浪沫，飛沫被風卷到半空，像下了場細碎的雨。發繩突然松了，長發瞬間被風抓在手里，肆意地往身后拉扯。那些沒做完的報表、沒回的消息、沒解決的爭執，此刻都跟著發絲在風里亂舞，然后被扯成更細的碎片，散進遠處的暮色里。有只海鳥逆著風飛，翅膀繃得筆直，黑色的剪影在橘紅色的天幕上，像枚倔強的驚嘆號。
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民宿的露臺上有架舊秋千，入夜后風裹著星光蕩過來。我抱著膝蓋坐在秋千上，風掠過發梢時帶著露水的涼意，把遠處酒吧的吉他聲濾得格外清澈。隔壁桌的旅人在聊路上的見聞，說某個小島的風會吹口哨，某個海灣的風能托起風箏飛一整天。風突然轉了向，把他們的笑聲推到我耳邊，又輕輕拽著我的頭發往另一邊去，像是在說 “別發呆啦，快來聽故事”。

離開那天清晨，風停了片刻。收拾行李時發現發間還纏著幾根細沙，大概是海風留下的紀念。走到碼頭回頭望，浪濤依舊在礁石間翻涌，只是風變成了溫柔的推送，把船慢慢推出港灣。當引擎聲漸起時，風又追了上來，貼著舷窗掠過發梢，像句沒說出口的告別。摸了摸頭發，果然比來時輕盈了許多 —— 那些被海風帶走的喧囂，大概正沉在某個浪谷里，隨著潮起潮落，慢慢化作海底的沙。