Posted in Summer, tagged animal-like, branch has fallen, contemplation, disappear, end of life, memory, photography, waters of a lake, who we once were, writing on July 27, 2012| 2 Comments »
A branch has fallen from a tree and now rests in the waters of a lake.
Seemingly perched atop the lake’s mirror surface, the branch appears
to be creeping its way back to shore in an animal-like posture.
But it really isn’t going anywhere, except gradually melting into its reflection.
At the end of life, we disappear into who we once were.
Posted in Summer, tagged contemplation, heart, lyrical, memory, patterns, photography on September 16, 2011| 1 Comment »
A heart of stone floats in a swirl of grey beach sand; its cracked,
stained and battered form is supported by the lyrical designs of the sand,
pushed and shaped by waves and wind. With each beat, the hard heart
is whittled down. Eventually it will be nothing but a grainy memory,
making new patterns in the shifting ether that once held it so securely.
Posted in Summer, tagged exchange stare, forest creature, memory, moment on August 17, 2011| 4 Comments »
Have you ever exchanged a lengthy stare with a creature of the forest?
Stood there still as could be, just looking into wild eyes? Hoping you don’t
scare your newfound acquaintance; wanting to take in all the chaotic detail
of its physicality; until one of you turns away to go about his business
and then the connection is broken, except for the memory of the
moment that you carry with you from then on.
m1nute 