I am feeling the pressure of leaving Birch Bay; things capturing my eye perhaps for the last time. When will I again wander the shoreline, stooping to pick up a shell or a piece of beach glass? My entire environment will soon alter. Colorado. Red Earth. The sun will set upon mesas instead of San Juan islands.
I'll just have to think of it as stretching a new blank canvas. Don't look back. Eyes forward.
Today's photograph is of mossy driftwood.