Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

that photo is of one of the finest days of my summer, right here on the wrong coast of my own country. i look at it and i hear the soundtrack of ocean, seagulls chanting sea shanties, squawking to their tribes of the acquisition of goods, ocean dancing deeply, waves repeating, sun blasting down like a big blowdryer on those rocks, grey and dry and big up close to the tree line. birches and elders and canadian oak, drinking in the sky, roots all reaching eastward toward the great drink, empty skeletens of crabshells, flipped on their backs and abdomens pecked out, empty claws and crotchety legs, dozens of them along the beach where we walked, stopping only for water or handfulls of fruits and nuts and slices of orange or spitting out scarlet pits of cherries, the sky and the ocean and shoreline all outlasting our rations.