In the early mornings a cool dew now lingers in the grass, but like my vague thoughts of winter it disappears with the sun. It’s just a dream it’s just a dream the dawn seems to whisper. In the north, the waves have grown more fierce. Thrashing against black rock, they beckon with a renewed passion. It’s true, even seas change. We gaze out at the blue, the green, the grey expanse, and wait for the whales to come.
