Monday, August 9, 2010


the ebb and flow of the tide
- like anything that comes and goes -
leaves behind little forms
of such vulnerability
of such fragility and fineness
that their very presence
seems entirely unlikely
and yet
there they are
cast in gentle filagrees
softly spread across a field of sand

in this way
they are
so much like people

washed up on the shore of this world


Linda Sue said...

washed up and strewn so gracefully!

Elisabeth said...

I feel a touch flotsam and jetsam tonight. Thanks for putting my feeling into words, Steve.

Valerianna said...

mmmmm, yes, just so.

steven said...

linda sue - for an inland boy, the beach is a treasure trove not only of things to see but things to touch. well everything but the protoplasmic blobs. steven

steven said...

elisabeth - even in the magical world of steven there are mornings that begin that way, days that become that way, even end that way. hang on tight and the good stuff'll all come back. steven

steven said...

valerianna, ohhhh yes. steven

Butternut Squash said...

Strewn About but perfect just the way they are. A gentle post.

ellen abbott said...


The Weaver of Grass said...

So thoughtful and so true - and lovely photographs too steven.

Loren said...

Sounds like the real strength of nature to me, steven.

Love it.

Golden West said...

Prince Edward Island's varieties of seaweed look remarkably like our own here along the Pacific, although our sand color is strikingly different. Lovely!