water

Always in motion ever changing the overall flow of the creek maintains a steady stream of water over a rock washing ever in the same spot but with different fresher water every moment. In the abstract blur of white water, moving too fast for the camera shutter to freeze in motion, a face will appear speaking the voice of the river.



Tiny pine cones trapped aboard a moss surface seeking release to the flow down stream to carry the seeds to fertile ground to grow as guardians to the flow of water.



Gurgled over a slow eddy in the rush of wetness the stones below the shallow water shape shift in the glancing reflection of sunlight dancing the surface of this quiet bit of the rush.



Like an old rusted wheel the orange sewer drain rests in the ground. Paint peeled and chipped away by time and the creeping of vegetation the etched in steel faded letters spell the source beneath, water.



Cut into half a black circle the blue ringed by red protective covering bolted in place to ensure proper flow.



Lasting throughout a whole winter season and still clinging to the same branch they turned colour on, the brilliant red leaves listen by the side of the stream to the gurgle of water as it whispers of dreams long gone with the season. Time frozen in step.