The Sea Never Forgets, Never Remembers

Storms a coming she heard the old man say as he looked up at the gray sky and misty trees. Well, no shit she thought, seems obvious to me. But ya see he said the sea has a way of changing ya, making a man of ya, putting the fear back into ya. I don’t need the sea to see the sea but also to be is the point of my existence. A slanderous thought he said but a reality nonetheless. Bless it she thought another drop in the eternal bucket of endless sayings. The baying was heard then from a far, a soft cry in the breezy air. A foreboding or a fresh start?