Of sand scrapes and twilight parasailing

It was a spontaneous decision, the kind you're always glad you made.
SlapdashRandomIncidental?
The light behind is fading, the ground below is glowing and over the sea we swoop. An ungainly bird, flammable, no smoking in the air please!
At some point, instead of appreciating the glittering gem of the island or the gliding, soaring, flying, I thought "shit, all that's stopping gravity from acting is a nylon canopy overhead, a canvas harness under-ass and the strings that ligament-like keeps us attached to the boat below."
A deep breath, hard to catch in mid-air, and the calmness sought is found. Maybe now I get why Icarus could not not go higher.