She waits in the tide like a stranded siren, waiting for the sea to overtake her, but it is a lie, just like a siren’s song. It will never happen. The sea is part of her, and she a part of it.
Many of my Muses are situated in beautiful scenes, they flow together to suggest that my muses belong in the gentle, benevolent nature I put them in, but this one is a little different. This Muse is in the rough, like a soft beautiful thing in an inhospitable scene but her face says not only that she belongs but that she is a master of it.