It's very early in the morning. The sun had not yet risen, and all of Crescent Bay was hidden under white sea-mist. The great, bush-covered hills behind were shrouded in mist. You couldn't see where they ended and the pastures and wooden huts began. The sandy road was gone, pastures and huts were on the other side; beyond them there were no white dunes covered with reddish grass; There was nothing to indicate which was the beach and where the sea was. A heavy dew had fallen. The grass was blue. The huge drops were just hanging on the bushes and not falling; Flowers with silvery, fluffy leaves hung loosely on their long stems, and all the marigolds and carnations in the cottage yards bowed their necks to the ground due to humidity.
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