The black car flew across the causeway from St. Pete's to Tampa Airport. The bay here is a massive, horizon bending expanse. A spirit freeing sight. Worries, fears, terrors take wing and fly free to glide on momentary release. I remembered our trip to her little shelling atoll along a south bound ribbon of highway. Now threatened by an ugly, oily invasion; I sent an entreaty to ocean gods to keep it safe. She-Who-Visits loves it so. It is a safe haven. There, we will meet again and I'll be hers - if only for three days.