Hawkmoon, where are you?

Sometimes I look out of the window, across the marshes, and a dark tree takes on the shape of a castle. I think of Castle Brass appearing in the Camargue. I look for pink flamingos; we have white egrets instead. I look for wild horses; we have tall, rangy deer.

Yesterday, we were in Sayville, looking at museum boats. Some of them had runners as well as keels and rudders. For the ice. That rang a bell too...

Hawkmoon, where are you?

:-)