At the water.

About change

At the water.

Waves glisten.

Symmetric contours shaped by the stream, hide and reveal the flickering lights, shadows, sun and clouds.

Up above.

Winds whistle.

Rustled branches bared as the air drops the leaves to drift off to new lands, of which they once were so proud.

In the deep.

Pebbles listen.

Echoed murmurs of vanishing dreams, those who pass by and arouse rattling ocean lungs, 

thrust the piece onto the ground, gather new pebbles, stones that are set but never bound.

Each one is perfect, each one is not, but that is the magic the creature forgot.

Reviews

[B]

Finding beauty in the obects humanity toss aside
Its funny
We value all the wrong things

I have always been gathering pebbles ever since i was a little girl

They hold so much