Blurring the perception of what is to Know and what it is to See.

Walking on birds wings bringing the dusky seascape to my lips.

Taking sips of the flushing waves,

Making fog where rippling curles used to extend.

Sitting Behind my Lens,

The Sun’s warmth,

On my Back.

Watching the clouds race,

Across the Northern Sky.

Waves clapping,

Amongst the Time-worn, Decayed, planks of Wood.

Empathizing the beauty in old-age.

Feeling a new sense of time.