Neath icy blue skies the morning tide laps against the rocky shore. The last rays of the silvery moon reflect in the waters. A calm serenity of nature if ever there was one. And yet the rippling waves bring with them a frigid truth. That which is beautiful is also deathly cold. Those who would bask beneath the rising sun this day would do so beneath an Eskimo’s coat if they had any sense.
🎵’Through wind and —hic — and rain we sailed. Hic — the boat-hic-we brought to shore, and oh, the water —hic — we bailed’
Continue reading at Mason’s Mind Menagerie