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Sunday, July 3, 2011

the lone windmill

The morning mist came in from the sea as the people walked their dogs along the beach. Every house seemed to belong on the coast. Some were pale peach, sea green and a faded blue, but towering above the trees, inns and neighborhoods, a windmill appeared like a shadow in the light fog. From the inn's balcony, it seemed to rebel the touristy atmosphere and add a comforting effect. If the fog covered the beach, houses and tress, the wind mill might have seemed to belong to a farm far from any distracting lights or noises. Early in the morning, it was a welcome symbol of tranquility in a busy town.

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