Horizons yet again

I decided to stroll the beach on the north end of the Boston Harbor about 9 AM on a Monday morning.  Not too far in the distance was a paddle boarder already plying his craft.  A few others walked the beach, but very few.  In the distance where the peninsula intruded somewhat across the bay were the wealthy houses.  They had the money to escape Boston and enjoy the quiet of the waters.

On the other side of the peninsula, 11 miles further, was the skyline of the city.  It would take an hour to travel around the bay by road to the city, but only 20 minutes by ferry from the tip of the peninsula around the harbor's lighthouse.

I could hear the gulls above me, but the small breeze was the only other noticeable sound in my ears.  I had never been to any beach in mid-autumn, much less a Massachusetts beach.  It stretched my horizons yet again.

I generally don't stretch my horizons or let others stretch them for me.  But it happens once in a while.  Sometimes the scene is in the right place.  Sometimes you're with the perfect person.  Sometimes both.  Then it's a beautiful thing, I allow it and willingly say, "Stretch on!"