This wonderful piece from Claudine Metrick caught my eye, speaking to me of dark and distant horizons, roiling atmosphere, somehow a journey. My picture, an variation/extract from "Gone Surfing"
I did not need even a raft on this journey. The sea was as flat as the beach, as flat as the horizon, you could walk on it for miles. Leave it. Not warm, but the chill of the water was invigorating, not for me a somnambulist suicide. Walk briskly to the distant islands poking up like bubbles. So wet already, what can a mere storm do to me now? Embrace it. Take me up into the clouds and smear me across new horizons.
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