The only thing to come now is the sea.

From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,

Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.

These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.

I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me

To the hills' northern face, and the face is orange rock

That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space

Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths

Beating and beating at an intractable metal.

Sylvia Plath

I lived on the Water about 12 years ago and again two months ago I made the same decision.  Everyday I wake up to this from my window and I promise you , it 's never the same scene , Colors ,sounds ,the salty air ..... As a water baby , I felt home all over again! A wise decision for me!