Beinghere

By Beinghere

West Bay Beach

The sky was blue, the sand was smooth and golden, I could hear the water lapping on the shore, and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. Not a soul could be seen in any direction. I could have imagined my self on some tropical island, had I not felt that my nose could develop frostbite at any point and drop off.
Sunshine and frost today, and boy, was it freezing.

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