Time's Blur

Time passes, streaking color across my frame, leaving behind evidence of the fleeting dusk light.

Waves crash as the wind gusts. Fog rolls in to reclaim the horizon, proving to be more dangerous than the expected and tangible.

The expansive granite sea line, so stoic and un-moving, absorbing the incoming seas, only to return it as foam.

The time goes one way, but the tide goes two. Rhythmically making it seem likes a perpetual loop.

The Northern Atlantic, cold and made of salt, preserves its memories in the grains.

Time passes, streaking tones across my frame, leaving behind evidence of the fleeting dusk light.

-David Butler