Summer days roll away,
Tides turn,
Time has no home here,
Beaches quiet except for the skylark,
Seaweed resting at high tide,
Sea green and blue, with sand as white as in any beautiful foreign land,
Staffa far away, nestling between the rocks of the nearby shoreline,
The gentle peacefulness of the waves washing ashore,
And apart from the sounds of nature....
....There is silence.
C.x 25/06/10
