She built a house by the seaside, where whales and dolphins bubble fed on migrating salmon during the summer months. The edge you should be wary of, as the drop below could sever your head and legs upon impact. The woman who lived in that house didn't care of the drop- she didn't even notice it by now. All she cared was finding food before the bears beat her to it. An umbrella of maple and black spruce laced the cliff edge, waving emerald leaves in the never ending sea breezes, guarding the house from helicopters and airplanes that prowled the skies. Breezes sang an eerie choir, day and night, making branches quiver under pressure. The woman sought more harmonious rhythms, but she could tolerate the wind. In fact she birdwatched a lot, a whole lot, and more when winds picked up at night. Cursing at the wind didn't seem ethical to her, as it was the same wind which brought her to this island. She accepted the dark side to everything.