Indistinct shapes move among indistinct forms.
The large forms wobble, snap back; wobble, snap back; wobble, snap back. As if they are trying to escape some invisible force holding them in place. They have been trying a very, very long time.
The smaller forms wobble, drift; wobble, drift; wobble, drift. The force that brings them here is less obvious, more fluid but still there. A force as ancient as the stones themselves.
Stony Point in winter relives this dream year after year, decade after decade, perhaps century after century and possibly unaccountably longer.
No one knows how long the Giant Cuttlefish have been coming here.
Let the dream last.