Fog Again
Vanishing Gulls
The seagull through fog
Silent, airy, wing — wing steps
Fainter, into white
Another foggy morning. Not that the seagulls care. Or perhaps they do.
Usually, though, you’d see them from afar — winged artists of wind and current. Quite often I’d not only see them sail above me, but beside me and even below me, for I’m walking along a bluff about thirty feet above the sandy beach below (and further out the ocean), and the gulls, gliding twenty-five feet about the sand glide five feet below me. It’s a wonderful sight, that, for not only does it give you a close-up of beak and eye, but also a real sense of their size on the wing, a three-feet span I’d guess.
Yes, usually, you’d see the gulls from afar, either shooting up into the air from the beach below, or just riding high on some up-draft or surfing on a strong wind. This morning though, in the dense fog, what gulls I saw appeared out of a milky nowhere and only flashed by or above me for a breath or two, before disappearing back into the fog — this particular one slowly, gradually, growing mistier and mistier, fainter and fainter, until the undisturbed white of the fog was restored, leaving no gull-traces at all.
From nothing: emerging gull, gull, fading back into nothing.
There’s a lesson here somewhere.
© Wolfstuff
P.S. If you like what you’ve read here and would like to contribute to the creative motion, as it were, you can do so via PayPal: here.
