Strawberry sky cradled the sinking orange on the horizon. Lazily, my makeshift canoe creaked as it rocked on the water’s surface, pushed gently from underneath. Thick pools of fog settled and replaced the dark indigo surface with a ghostly white. It wisped through clusters of algae-copper rocks peeking at the sun, which crept farther out of sight, weighted by its own cooling fatigue. As I brushed my fingers over a cold, white-streaked rock passing the side of the canoe, I thought about how I would give all of this up to be with you.