I can "feel" the silence.
Unbroken but for the whispering swishhh of the gentle waves.
The thick salty presence of the early morning air is like a healing balm.
The grey haze slowly thinning as it has done since the dawn of time.
Quiet purples and blues slowly giving way to pastel oranges and yellows.
The ruffle of my hair comes with a kiss from the morning breeze upon my face.
The lingering silence of night slipping away is reflected in the rhythm of my mind.
The vying of the gulls in the gentle surf breaks the stillness of the moment.
Dawn is born, its red orange face peeking through the fog of a distant ancient horizon.
The dreamy unsullied stillness with it's memory laden quiet shifts to capture the present.
Thin wisps of grey gauze in the heavens catch fire in the birthing of a new day's sun.
Glittering golden jewels scatter themselves across the increasing pulse of the sea.
The whispering waves are speaking louder to me now.
The sleepy quiet of the past giving way to the calmly insistent present.
The day cries forth its birth with light, sound, and a yearning vibrancy to its coming existence.
And yet my mind is ever drawn to the concealing silence waiting before the dawn.
Mike Ash.
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Mike was killed during a home invasion in 2004, Tampa, Florida. A remarkable man in the way he looked at nature and the world. A site with a few of Mike's images......... http://www.macrophotos.com/mike/index.htm
I miss you and as always, go in peace my macro mate.
Mike Ash
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