I think of you often. You were cold. Blistering winds. Grey skies. Waves crashing against rocks. I was 27. Standing on the tip of Prince Edward Island. Not a soul anywhere. Wind and spray stinging my cheeks. Giant windmills towering above. Science and steel. Harnessing what can't be harnessed. Threatening to hurl me into the ocean. I felt my place. The place of any human being. Small and insignificant. Wrapped up in the arms of an unconquerable power. Raw. True. Harsh. Exquisite. You were the greatest day of my life.
Sincerely,
PC
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