“And now as July gave way to August the warm air moving in on the west wind met the cool sea air, and the harbor lay under a dense, dripping fog. From the point a mile down the coast the reedy voice of the foghorn cut through the mist day and night, and bells rang on all the reefs and shoals.”
Under the Sea-wind by Rachel Carson

Summer currents

Dune essay

Pen and ink

Under our feet

A suggested path