The waves broke on the rocks. More stroked, than broke, actually. There was a rush of a whisper, a murmer, as they came together. The colours melted together, in the birthing light. the lights smudged together, in the infant morning. there was not a sound, a soul, or intrusion: of the world, of reality, of life. It was one of those rare chances, slips in the fabric of time, where you can slip out and wander along the beach; at the start of the sea, at the land's end; and put a little shy foot in, testing the waters, beyond the limits of the world. Had the earth been flat, perhaps, this would have been
the edge the picture didnt really come out, technically speaking, but it was a beautiful moment. it wasnt light yet. armies of gulls, noisy, rowdy, boisterous. the sea and the beach and the sky, all deserted. alone on the rocks and the sand. exquisite ...
New snaps on Flickr. Look for the tag FEB!
Originally Posted at Prerona.
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