A collection of photos capturing some minute nature of Central Park.
Specks further give depth to the angles of the shots.
These symbolize space and difference.
The color and contrast are used to enhance the focus.
I urge the viewer to relax.
Look deep within the picture.
Set deep inside the mind.
You’ll find the vortex.
An element that pulls.
If you feel it, let me know.
…..
Scratched. The shell was cracked. Three plunges whacked. Making way as the precious fruit was stolen. Off the energy well spent to harvest. That’s all that was left. Disregarded. It’s final token. Seed of the seed.
The sun shines on everything alike. It works in unison with the wind. As one bakes, the other pushes. Branches sway. Leaves tumble to the ground. Joining old with the new. Mostly trodden over. Making way in the cycle of nature.
Not everything is what it seems. When the world is gleaming with color. That which defines it, blinds it, and rejects incoming light. Mute other forces. And what is left is what matters most.
Cells parading as scales. Saturation is vital in terms of forces. Entangled in a beds of rocks. Slowly but surely breaking into filaments. Bested by few. Wasted by many. The leave is soon to rot.
A tribal unit the park. Sustaining whole systems with just seed. Defining the plot. Discarded tops littered along the road. Fortnights spent being weathered to Earth.
Flaring with radiance. As if to glimpse on the surface. With great light. There exists a dark. The flare of who it wants to be? Or it’s mask of dark distress?
A spoil left to soil. Many of which are skewed and cracked. But this one is staying. Primped and peeked, this one is taking a stand.
It’s Mother host is nowhere close. There’s nothing left to say. A silent heirloom. White flames as it decays.
Abundant scrapes. Collected over the years. Bent clipped, over covered up. These things really make a muck. Defining a new state.
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