At the end of an evening, sitting on a picnic table, near Patojos watching the moon rising, listening to the waves lap . . being startled by something in the water in front of me, only to realize that it was a heron feeding. I hadn't realized they would ever fish at night.
At the end of an evening, sitting out on the end of Paradise dock, thinking I saw a space ship, but it was only the moon rising from the ocean with a single layer of cloud before it.
At the end of an evening, out at the end of a dock, laying back looking at the stars wondering how I could ever go home.
At the end of an evening, toes in the sand, watching the sun come up.