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Friday Harbor

Love at first sight if we're going to be perfectly blunt.

The Pig War was fought here and the Union Jack is still hoisted by U.S. Government employees.

The still of the water and the grey clouds remind me of a security only found in the Pacific Northwest. Watching the Washington State Ferries come and go. All the passengers disembarking into the rudiments of a seafaring civilization. One feels that there is an ersatz claim of fraternity with the land here. Primp mothers in luxury sedans scurry about with wheels turning on municipal plans their addled minds dismiss. Every effort to appease is blatant and worthy of sycophants. Still, these are the Americans. We occupy and develop where once there was no such occupation; no proclivity for change.

American borders of liquid.

you know more than I know, John Cale

The glass -- the sea before us, here standing on its banks. The jutting mounds of earth rest on the surface of the water shrouded in mist.

the ocean will have us all

Myriad signal lights blink in some sequence of logic beyond comprehension.

you always bring out the worst in me

...Sunday morning

Sol's massive blood orange tendrils crawl across water inverse in the firmament above. In the distance, the mist is a skirt around the earth-mound giants slowly drifting under the sky. Mankind's towers of steel, equipped with physical red bauds blinking endlessly, occupy a sliver of the giant's back. Smoke curls from corrugated pipes not far from the docks.

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site last modified: 21-11-2022
Ryan J.P. Casalino © 2015 - 2022