waynecook

Limestone

The creek which winds through the park nearest us is dotted with these bare rocks where the current wore at the walls during flash floods. Several spots where e...
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The creek which winds through the park nearest us is dotted with these bare rocks where the current wore at the walls during flash floods. Several spots where erosion of the high water marks cut through the topsoil, trees have fallen and left pieces of root stabbing the air, while trunks of scrub oak crashed across the little confluence of the river, trash, dirt and limestone scrubbing away at the drain walls.

Someone once asked me if I saw poetry in every picture. It's worse than that. I seen words in every foot of ground, every second of life, frozen in frames, whether these or the millions of the TV cameras at my fingers. Life in images of bone or rigid stone make their mark in our existence whether we cry or exult in joy. They are supposed to.
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