Looking at a scene like this (Tampa Bay, just west of yesterday's bridge), can we honestly say that we appreciate it, truly see all of it? It is a little like reading Dylan Thomas. Looking hard doesn't help. You have to look at it some other way in order to understand it. You can't take it in, it is too large, you can only immerse yourself in it.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

(from Fern Hill, by Dylan Thomas)