Sometimes, you have to go to the ocean.
A crescent sun fancies your boat.
Here the trees have snails
. Their old shells are very fragile.
(The snail needed an userpic. Very quiet company, but always blogging. Blog blog blog.)
This land ends at your feet. Where will you go from here?
Children paint the sky with stones painted by the sea.
If you focus your eyes just right, everything looks like a tropical island.
Grasses plead with colors...
...give us more light.
Suns think they are warm, but the dark is winning, night by night
His hair is a prism of hers.
You can see when she dances.
Fire teaches courses on lighting.
She's a phoenix in hiding.Weeds
are spices and welcome aliens.
The bees like their thistles.
Only leaves live here now.
The sun drips down stones.
You might find what you're looking for.
Things held together...
And everywhere hanging by a thread.
Balance is the sway of branches...
A pile of fractures.
The ceremony is sanctuary for a hoodie girl.
This is how the island keeps time.
I can hear my reflection. It's telling me to jump.
The signpost is jealous of those that do.
Fires are allowed below sea level.
You may have to swim...
...to see fire and salt water kiss.