The light called me to the beach this morning.
I went, knowing there were few days left till winter.
Perfection wasn't what I wanted.
What was I looking for?
The wind. The light. The gulls and the spray.
A small group gathered to say goodbye to one they loved. They huddled close against the wind, below the bluff. A gull above. Gliding.
The gulls and the light and the fading colour.
And the gulls. I've been blind to their beauty. Look, look.
What could be commonplace here? They turn to face the wind. Dig in.
Have you seen sunlight illuminate their bones?
Geese push into formation.
The gull flies.