The Harbour Village.
The harbour lay peacefully between the curves of two hills. In between these two horns of land that stuck out into the water, lay a little harbour village. The houses were plain and small, and made out of stone with thatched roofs. A stone chimney stuck out from each of the dozens of small houses.
The streets were mostly dirt roads, except for the main through way, which was paved with large stones. Dogs barked while children played in one of the small side-roads among a group of houses. Apart from this bit of noise, the little village was mostly quiet. There were no carts out on the streets, and no activity in the small harbour.
A few small fishing boats lay bobbing in the water where they lay moored, next to the quay. The swayed gently to and fro in the dark water, with their sails and ropes fastened down. It was quiet in the small village today. It lay in rest between the two hills, while the water of the mighty ocean lapped gently onto the shore. The wind was cool and mild, and above the sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky.
The village was at peace, and a happy place for its inhabitants to be. It was their home as it had always been, they knew no other place. The small village was their whole world, and their entire existence. It was home.
And still the waters of the endless dark sea, washed sparkling onto the beach. It washed over the sand and the pebbles, and it lapped rhythmically against the wood of the dock. Sea birds flew high above on the light wind, and the trees and bushes around the village stirred in the breeze.
The village lay in peace, protected by the surrounding green hills, and fed by the sea. Time passed on as the little world lay unchanged, in its haven of nature. The sea rolled on…
