“Living painting...”

The late evening overcast skies begin to break into a pattern of a thousand little cotton balls, separated by the most amazing robin’s egg blue sky. The sun squeezes into a tiny sliver between the blanket of clouds and the soft rolling foothills to the west, painting the dark rippled waters of the ocean with a brush stroke of golden light. Hues of orange, gold and pink dance briefly upon the water in between the silhouettes of surfers gently flowing forth and back with the incoming waves as the few trees lining the surrounding hills take upon a golden glow. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the sun gracefully slides down behind the hills, making its exit stage left for the evening to trade places with the moon.

Tyler.