|'Rockweed' 18x18" oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner|
I lean into the piling. It is covered with a banquet of life: seaweed and kelp, barnacles, mussels and billions of creatures, right down to the most basic, who call this spot home. I close my eyes and, with my ear close, listen to the sound of it: Water sounds, bubble sounds, scurries, tiny scratches, the sound of an eagle, the lapping of water.
It is a city, a country, the world, a universe.
|Altered internet image; author unknown|