Southwest beach. Here, I move in silence.
The invisible places rest in me. They reveal themselves, slowly. Collaborating with the unknown. Allowing the hidden to speak. Embodying deep knowledge. Imprints. Storytelling. Singing sand. Moving mass of terns diving for moving mass of fish. Re-membering our origins. Bringing together that which has been scattered. Feathers. Sunset. West. Illumination. Driftwood, vertically set. June bugs buzzing and crunching along swaying dune grass. A fox here, not here. Tracks. Allowing life to weave story in me.
"Anything can fly."