I should have told you weeks ago about my early morning reading over the holidays. When your book was being completed I thought, "How could she ever transfer the wind and movement of the panels to paper and ink?" You did. You captured that indescribable muddle of memory where time gets mixed with yesterdays and creates a sort of reverie. Like an oil and water painting in the sun, everyone's thoughts came together to compose what that place 'feels' like when you sit in a daze with the wind and the gulls. Bravo! It's a little jewel.