Washed up. Lost. Missing. Worn. Weathered.
To me it seemed to be in the right place at the right time. The marks hold a story. I see its beauty. It just sat there as the sun faded behind it and water crashed around it. Waiting for me to capture its beauty.
The ball is mine now.
Killing time before work I went to an old pond where I used to shoot and noticed a lot of smoke trails from airplanes. I love these. I enjoy watching them sold bold at first and then fading, trailing off … Continue reading