Monday, 4 October 2010

Leftovers



















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It wasn't the best place to be today. The high tide line was a feast for every fly in the nation picking over what the crows and gulls had cast aside. Seaweed soup still slick and glutinous on the shore. Helpless claws of broken crabs. Left overs of the leftovers.



















There were treasures I couldn't face picking up, they were just so slimy. But as I struggled to climb out of my own footsteps on screes of heaped-up stones, I saw it. And it looked at me and I looked back. Just about the only beach find that didn't need dousing in a bucket full of clean water. It's a piece of wood with the texture of coal. The size of my palm.



















I discovered, sadly, that I don't have the camera or the expertise to photograph it as it is. So, I let the software help me turn some of my shots into the kind of scenes I would love to have painted. And it made me happy.......