The rush of wings, the sharp tang of salt air, the scallops of lace left by the retreating surf, the wind whipping my hair about my face…..
The peace of this place wraps around me like a old sweater and comforts me.
The rush of wings, the sharp tang of salt air, the scallops of lace left by the retreating surf, the wind whipping my hair about my face…..
The peace of this place wraps around me like a old sweater and comforts me.