While walking on the beach yesterday, I noticed how I was taking photos of the ocean, sky and beach treasures - yet there were many things I was excluding - like the houses lining the hill at my back. So I got interested in what I might not be taking photos of, behind me, noticing the beauty to be found there too.
A row of old logs stood on their ends offering many stories that I could have missed in favour of the moving clouds, waves, birds, people and dogs. Stories of the passage of time, rough seas, old wounds, stuck places, hiding spots and togetherness.
And look at this rusted, faded, corroded, cut and frayed wonder:
I'm in steeping mode - trying to see what I'm not seeing.