In the half flight, a long grass stem becomes a fragile scaffold for the morning's breath, each bead of dew on a spiders woven art create a prism of mist-made-crystals. The spider has long since abandoned her web yet the droplets remain like tiny chandeliers of frozen light suspended in the cold morning air catching what little sun there's to break through the gloom before they fall, one by one, back to silence. We must appreciate the beauty within every crevice of our lives.
Printed on Hahnemuhle Photo Rag, and as a Metal Print
In the half flight, a long grass stem becomes a fragile scaffold for the morning's breath, each bead of dew on a spiders woven art create a prism of mist-made-crystals. The spider has long since abandoned her web yet the droplets remain like tiny chandeliers of frozen light suspended in the cold morning air catching what little sun there's to break through the gloom before they fall, one by one, back to silence. We must appreciate the beauty within every crevice of our lives.
Printed on Hahnemuhle Photo Rag, and as a Metal Print