Algy decided that it might be prudent to retreat to a higher spot, before the tide advanced any further. Unfortunately the higher ground is always more exposed, but then a fluffy bird can’t have everything! So Algy found an elevated perch with an excellent view, only slightly obscured by the wind constantly blowing his hair into his eyes… As he gazed at the never-ending tumult of the sea crashing and swirling around the rocks below, he was reminded of a poem by Carl Sandburg:

          The sea is never still.
          It pounds on the shore
          Restless as a young heart,
          Hunting.

          The sea speaks
          And only the stormy hearts
          Know what it says:
          It is the face
             of a rough mother speaking.

          The sea is young.
          One storm cleans all the hoar
          And loosens the age of it.
          I hear it laughing, reckless.

          They love the sea,
          Men who ride on it
          And know they will die
          Under the salt of it.

          Let only the young come,
          Says the sea.

          Let them kiss my face
            And hear me.
          I am the last word
            And I tell
          Where storms and stars come from.

[ Algy is quoting the poem Young Sea by the 20th century American poet Carl Sandburg. ]

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