For days on end the sky wasn't exactly cloudy yet the horizon looked gray. The coastline was
distinguishable from the sky only because it was expected in that direction and thus was the sea's gray distinguishable from the sky's, more by the mind than by the eye. One wasn't sure though about what made a day gray and what allowed it to be blue and sunny. Perhaps it was do with the atmosphere, dense as it could have been with suspended particles - dust not let by gusty winds to settle down.
Then one day a vista, belonging to the other extreme, bewitched me: On the ground were sharply etched shadows while above a clear sky raced towards the horizon where defiantly stood the deep-blue sea - luminous, bristling, and unmerged. At that distance, the sea was no longer a fluent water body but seemed more like lapis lazuli gone liquid.
