Winter solitude —
in a world of one color,
the sound of wind.
— after Bashō
On the Southwest Harbor side of Long Pond, the cold does not just arrive. It builds things. A branch, a reed, a bit of shoreline brush — anything the wind can reach becomes part of the work.
This piece of ice looked almost deliberate, like something shaped by hand and then left hanging over the water. But it was only weather: cold holding on, wind pushing back, and the lake making one more small sculpture before the next thaw erased it.
Recommended Format:
12x18 Lustre Photographic Paper Print
Winter solitude —
in a world of one color,
the sound of wind.
— after Bashō
On the Southwest Harbor side of Long Pond, the cold does not just arrive. It builds things. A branch, a reed, a bit of shoreline brush — anything the wind can reach becomes part of the work.
This piece of ice looked almost deliberate, like something shaped by hand and then left hanging over the water. But it was only weather: cold holding on, wind pushing back, and the lake making one more small sculpture before the next thaw erased it.
Recommended Format:
12x18 Lustre Photographic Paper Print