The whispers of the tide speak in tones serious yet precariously playful, as if the ocean had a secret it couldn't quite keep, its voice breaking against the shore in ironic laughter. Shhh... hear its sarcasm?
Meanwhile, the seagulls act as ciphers, scribes of the sandy paper, observing human folly from their perches with an air of aristocratic bemusement. "Look," they seem to say, "the tide outlasts time itself, helplessly pulling the shoreline, much like politicians pull the public's opinions." Ephemeral Dilemmas
Time has a way of wrapping moments in amber, preserving them not for their beauty but for their absurdity. Here, a bubble of time trapped in resin: a ponderous whale lurches in the shallows, contemplating the nature of existence, while barnacles cling to it, refusing to give a damn. Sandwiches of Certainty