It’s hard to think about the concept of going down without juxtaposing it with the idea of going up. I don’t think it’s possible. Looking at someone going down a flight of stairs, means the seer is on his or her way up. Climbing a million and one steps to get to a specific place, makes me think about the million and one steps I would need to walk down again to get back to where I started. Then there’s the idea of being in the mountains for a week. When I think of the mountains, (and I do love the mountains), I also can’t help but think of the sea. And how I need to be near it very soon.
I know. A little weird, right? It must be the exhaustion.
Sea Fever by John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
All photos were taken in Sagada with my iPhone4. Filters used from Instagram.
grateful slice: the Mountain Province, the ocean and Photography