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Bēhance

graycsale / photography

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  • Grayscale

    Sea is a prelude of infinity, then the shore is a foreplay before the prelude with a pair of canine and human footprints nearby. There were hanging questions, ash and storm clouds in the air, but now, in the evening, everything went by, everything turned futile and at the same time essential to be here. And now, at night, broken in half by birds’ call, there is a risk to turn into your own breath, brought down and confused by it’s own depth. After that to pass all the way up to the very edge, to jump over the horizon and touch the other shore. You think so they turn into silence.