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stroke, glide, rise, fall along the blue smooth sunlit Biscay, once whaling boats, now weekend rowing sea-racers, fishing boats rest in sandstone ports, we breathe, stroll, laugh along coastal mountain path, absorb the sun warmth trickling down into our souls, mountain streams flow into salty coves, let the wind, rain and tide rise, bringing me days full of sea-light-clear-bright soul free moments.


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