Midnight, anchored in a sheltered bay, mangrove cays to seaward. The quiet thrumming of an orange glowing sodium-lit power station on the distant shore does not intrude on the peace of the anchorage or the quiet shush...shush... of ocean swells breaking on the barrier shoals.
The dichotomy of the ancient sea sounds layered intermixed with the the modern power plant's throb sings a melody which transfixed me. From our anchorage, the distant sodium lights of the power plant look fragile. Delicate. The humidity of the evening has dissipated after the heavy showers, but the stars are still obscured by the clouds. The air is fresh and clear, but not crisp like winter mountain air. Good, rich, clean sea air. One day I will miss this.
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