That pool of iridescent glitter. Could I row out to where the blue sea becomes liquid silver? Or is it like the end of the rainbow or a memory...where I can see it, but I never reach it.
Moonlight reflected on the waves that the sphere controls with it's inexorable invisible pull. Every creature under that light whose body contains water feels the moon passing overhead, governing the tides of the oceans and the sweet dark tides of blood and birth.
I was torn between photographing every shift of the light, and being still and contemplating the beauty of this scene like one might sit in front of a painting in a gallery. There is something so mysterious and otherworldly about soft moonlight, and the night-time ocean. This beach is almost deserted and the only sound was from some revellers around a fire in the distance, and the constant steady heartbeat of the waves rolling in and receding out, like the benign breath of some ancient being.
Moonlight reflected on the waves that the sphere controls with it's inexorable invisible pull. Every creature under that light whose body contains water feels the moon passing overhead, governing the tides of the oceans and the sweet dark tides of blood and birth.
I was torn between photographing every shift of the light, and being still and contemplating the beauty of this scene like one might sit in front of a painting in a gallery. There is something so mysterious and otherworldly about soft moonlight, and the night-time ocean. This beach is almost deserted and the only sound was from some revellers around a fire in the distance, and the constant steady heartbeat of the waves rolling in and receding out, like the benign breath of some ancient being.
