“A man's character always takes its hue, more or less, from the form and color of things about him” ~ Frederick Douglass

Chunks of glacial ice sit stranded in the crashing surf by their own size and weight. The ever-changing forms are occasionally forced and contorted into new positions by the largest waves that crash upon them. Each of these experiences always causing the hue of their character to compliment the flux of the surrounding atmosphere of the surf. In time, the forms and colors will eventually transform and become one with the ocean. In the moments of my own solitude here, with my own life in mind, I could somehow relate. I hoped my character throughout the crashing surf of life, in my own sunset, would hue so gracefully until I too return to the sea.