I'd described to a friend how I was standing at the window and watching the waves on the shore rolling in slow-mo. Sorta thick. Then I went down for a walk and saw how the rocks left exposed at low tide had a coating of ice.
At high tide the ice gets smashed, making slow, slushy waves.
Which made me wonder if the inventors of the Slush Puppie drink happened to be hanging out by the coast in the winter.
We walked in the hills and found a summer cottage where someone likes to have the salt breeze on the very edge of the cliff dry their clothes.
The neighbour wasn't able to do any work on trail last year. It only takes one summer for fir trees to start to grow and storms to knock down trees. By next year, it won't be possible to climb up there anymore.
I was behind R who was following moose prints. Moose prints in snow are surprisingly delicate and mincing, given the size of a moose. R's are bigger.
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