The boards creaked as we walked.
Two surfers stood on their boards, so steadily it seemed liked we were the ones surfing.
Who can tell which is land and which is sea when distorted images keep appearing?
To come back another day would be the only way to find out.
When the mermaids left, the waves receded and blades of grass acknowledge their salute to the ocean.
Hail to the great breezes of the south.
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