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Contemplative landscape 4

A curlew pads its way along the shore line. Each step placed with the care of a tightroap walker. It jabs at the sand with it's unfeasible long bill - stab, stab, stab. A stiletto aimed with casual accuracy. I could watch it all day, this beloved assassin, as much a part of this shore as the sand and sea itself. But then it flies away, making bubbling music. This song is my earliest memory in this world. To hear it is to be stabbed in the heart.

 

grey sky meets the sea

sixty five years in this world

all I can do is sigh

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Uploaded on September 13, 2020
Taken on September 9, 2020