Early morning and the marina is an old mirror, too gray and still for even the birds. The sailors are sleeping. But later when I step onto the sand, the ocean is a silver-green cauldron, and the waves are building.
It's a weird way to have a conversation. But go ahead. Then I'll find your blog (if you have one) and comment about something there. We probably won't be talking about the same thing--but I've had conversations like that, haven't you?
"A silver green cauldron." Yes. I have seen that. It is a bit witchy, isn't it?
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