Tell Me The Reason, Do

Tell Me the Reason, DoThe Rounded Stones of the Beach warmed in the rising sun. At the water's edge they were dark and wet, laced with green. The spiny odor of salt water and seaweed rose in the hot air. The sea was blue and flat. Half a mile out, a catamaran scudded down the wind under a tea-brown sail, a water bug running. Behind it, pasted to the horizon like a child's paper cutout, a steamer sat under a purple thread of smoke.Peter Hart knelt on the stony bottom of the sea. There was nothing...