The world clung to Spring. Winter was well on its way, but there were still warm mornings and bright afternoons. At the edge of town, there was a spot called Orrington Bay. It wasn’t a bay, per se, but it was shallow, flat water that stretched on for as song as the eye could see. Everyone knew that just beyond that was more land, but it was just out of sight, leaving room for it feel like the end of the world. The sky today bright, cloudless, and the sun is warm, and there’s a pleasant breeze. The bay is alive, but not crowded, two or two families are scattered across the wooden ledge that stretches across the waters edge. Children chase each other through the water that reaches their knees, and couples stroll in shin-deep water. It’s quiet, a hidden gem. Adam sits on a low, wide rock not too far into the water. His shoes are next to him on the rock, and he leans forward on his knees, watching his daughter play. His back is to the land, facing the horizon, where it’s unclear where the water and sky end or begin.