I walk alone in the sun-bathed sea.
My words have once again betrayed me. I know this is a moment to capture; that there is beautiful prose to be found here.
But not for me.
I am once again—or still—mute; lost in this transition from the arms of the forest to the forbidding border of the sea. Have my words mutinied? Have they found this world too vast for their liking? Have they returned to the sighing pines and singing birds of Halcyon Pond? Perhaps it is the squawking of the seagulls that has offended them, sent them flying away.
Whatever it is, they have left me here.
No words to describe the beauty of this moment.