Who can convince the sea to be reasonable?
What’s it get from demolishing blue amber, green granite?
And why so many wrinkles and so many holes in the rock?
— Pablo Neruda, The Book of Questions, translated by William O’Daly
Why do the waves ask me the same questions I ask them?
And why do they strike the rock with so much wasted passion?
Don’t they get tired of repeating their declaration to the sand?
–Pablo Neruda, The Book of Questions, translated by William O’Daly
Photographed May 3, 2019
“God save thee, Ancient Mariner! from the fiends that plague thee thus!
Why lookst thou so?”“With my crossbow
I SHOT THE ALBATROSS!”
“I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay dead like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.”
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Photographed September 25, 2014
On a rocky shore
Face down in Cladophora
Rests a sad zori
Photographed August 2, 2013
Shoes On The Beach 