The waves hit the low wall, not with smacks like they mean it, but with nonchalant taps. Every once in a while there's a deep, hollow thunk where a water cave is created and falls against the wall. Even with that, it's all genial and peaceful. Not as passionate as the waves crashing against the cliffs of Maine. Foamy sea being forced into the air as the saltwater rushes against its rocky adversary.
Well, I'm off to visit Queens.
