Walking on the ridge some things are seen as on the edge. As in a change of seasons one becomes quiet and watches. Just take a bit of time to see.
Some images are striking enough to be in and a part of rather like a poem or something. One’s sight at times must be shared for there you are. The image of the moment is once only a singular event.
Rather like grain in light and
Poetry on the ridge. As ever be well, Stephen Craig Rowe