Swaying to the flute and the breaking waves and the voices of the invisible singers in the branches.
I am not sure what made me begin, but it feels right to sway, like a reed nudged by a gentle breeze.
And the slate coloured sand wash away into the grey water which mingles with the iron sky and I think that I too could be part of it all, of something greater, if I just let myself. As the cold water seeps into my shoes I shiver, but it is not long before the numbness comes and some large hand is already smudging all the remaining contrasts into uniformity.
Widdershins
/ May 1, 2015I don’t think it’s possible to not sway to the movement of the ocean.
W. R. Woolf
/ May 8, 2015True, the ocean doesn’t need help to be hypnotic.