In Praise of a Slow Stream

Just below the small footbridge on South Carolina's sidewalk, at the edge of Abbo's Alley, a slow moving stream collects the season's detritus, swirling leaf-fall and shadow in shallow water, above silt and pebble.

 

I hunkered and looked for a long while this morning, narrowing my focus to a series of small and smaller shifting scenes.  Had I not needed to work, I'd have happily spent the day.

Now, at home hours later, looking at the pictures, I wonder why I have filled my house with art: all I need do is walk outside to find my fill.