"Look how lonely the sky is today, daddy."

It was an odd thing to say even for her, so instead of responding back with the usual dismissive comment Ivan instead looked out the car window to see what Isabel was talking about. The sky was gorgeous at that moment. Clear and cloudless it was a brilliant shade of blue that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

Inwardly chuckling at himself Ivan replied back easily, "I don't know what you're talking about, dear. The sky is beautiful right now."

"The sky is lonely," Isabel pouted, her tone of voice beginning to merge into the annoyed always-right seven year old's voice instead of the wistful voice of someone far more mature.

"All right," Ivan agreed quickly. "Why is it lonely?"

"Because no one loves it," she said sadly, her fingers idly tracing shapes on the window.

"That's not true. Lots of people love the sky."

Isabel shook her head stubbornly. "The sky is in love with one person, and they don't love her back."

"Who does the sky love then?"

"The sea," Isabel answered simply.

"The sea," Ivan repeated distantly, his eyes quickly checking the rearview mirror as he scanned the road.

Isabel frowned slightly as if she realized that Ivan wasn't paying that much attention to her words. "It's sad for the sky. She always has to be with the sun and moon who love each other very much even though they're apart. And she has to watch the sea be in love with the sand even though they're always pushing each other back and forth."

Ivan's eyes flickered in surprise at his daughter's words. "How do you know that the sky is in love with the sea?"

For the first time in the conversation Isabel laughed. "That's a silly question daddy! Everybody knows that."

"Well I don't know it."

Still giggling she answered, "They're so much the same! The way they both stretch on and on around the Earth. So much of the world only the two of them have seen. They're almost like... echoes of each other."

"So why doesn't the sea love the sky?"

"He has the shore. The sky is his friend for everywhere he goes and all the new places he finds, but he needs the sand. The sand is solid, always reminding him of who he is. The sky is always changing with him, trying to find out who he can be."

Ivan gazed thoughtfully out his window. "That's really profound, Isabel. Really profound."

"Thank you." Hesitating Isabel frowned. "What does profound mean?"

Ivan smiled and shook his head back and forth. It was a reassuring question from her. A reminder that even though she was growing up and looking to be a lot wiser than he ever was, she was still his little girl.

"It means smart or wise."

"Oh. That's good."

"It's absolutely wonderful."