I am looking at a painting. Each line carries the sea's slow sway. It must be a small, rocky shore, seen from a cliff where only wind-scarred plants remain. Far off, the coastline blurs into the sky. My gaze follows the cliff to where the sea spreads wide with waves. Fine ripples shimmer white as they break along the shore - only one, a single weighty wave, breaks upon the rock where a silver shimmer glimmers - a lone bright gleam on dark stone. I lean closer. It is a gull. Why is it there, alone? I just keep looking.