An earnest sea
reaches for the love of the comforting shore while two stubborn hills stand
guard. The feisty sun is bowing down, only a mellow orange hue is left of the
morning's rage. Each is fighting for a place in the deepest recesses of the by
standers. Each vying to be etched in the memories of those who stand and watch.
Now that's what I call picture perfect. Well!! Almost!! You are not here.
