Sharing a simple note from my 2019 journal, mixed with photos of the sea (one of my favourite things to photograph).
The beach sometimes creates her own art, when she gets bored of the grey people that trample there.
The sand is a canvas yielding to the scars that the sea lays in (seemingly) abstract patterns but always with hidden meaning.
A cry from the pier, the tide goes about her business, dragging out the memories of last summer, hefting forth the hopes for winter.
Leaving clues on the shore, abandoned seaweed slung along the tide, cigarette dimps, twisted johnnies, dull nitrate canisters rejected by the ocean.
She pushes back all that doesn’t belong and plays out her colours on ridged sand dunes without translation and without pause.
Lovely photos and your words are just as evocative.
Wow, Nat - such beautiful words and pictures!
"...the tide goes about her business, dragging out the memories of last summer, hefting forth the hopes for winter."
Awesome!