Some say the sea lies beyond, others, the sky.
It is not for me to say. I only know, there’s something out there.
The fog horn warns of it. Its luminal echo approaches, clasps every branch of the solemn garden.
There are rumors a bridge lies just west, connecting soft-shouldered land, a graceful arc pinning down the liminal bodies of underwater worlds and salt-ripe air.
Shall we step off and see?