
The storm arrived before sunset.
The lighthouse had seen worse.
It did not mention this.
Far below, the sea spent several hours arguing with the cliffs.
Neither side appeared interested in compromise.
A crane crossed the darkening sky.
The wind pushed.
The crane adjusted.
The conversation continued.
The traveler stood on the rocks holding a rolled parchment.
The parchment contained many useful observations.
Most of them had been learned the difficult way.
The waves climbed higher.
The traveler remained where he was.
Not dramatically.
Not heroically.
Simply there.
The lighthouse glowed.
The crane disappeared into the clouds.
The sea continued being the sea.
By morning, the storm had moved elsewhere.
The cliffs were still present.
The lighthouse was still present.
The traveler was still present.
The parchment was considerably less elegant.
But perhaps more experienced.
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