…sunday evening, serenade of the sea…

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
[Sea Fever, John Masefield]

…gone are those days, as is El Gran Marinero…

Instead, and soothingly so,

 

 

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