Two Poles Against the Pink Hour

The water holds its stillness. Two poles rise from the shoreline, black and spare against the sky's gradual shifting from rose to cream to blue. There is grass, silhouetted and thin. There is the horizon line, exactly where it should be. The clouds move in their slow way, some holding the light longer than others, some already turning toward shadow.

This is what the camera sees when it wakes. Not more, not less. The poles do not stand for anything. They simply stand. Watch how the light finds the water's surface and rests there, patient as a hand opening. Notice one small thing today that asks nothing of you but your attention.

The Camera As Bell.