
Three burnt lines, wires on fire, sending singed signals …

Three burnt lines, wires on fire, sending singed signals …

There aren’t too many straight lines in nature (or in life for that matter).
Here, branches deviate and twist; leaves are splayed like stars.
All angles and curves every which way – sprawling ,kinetic and chaotic.
And that is exactly how it should be…


And so, to the ever-shifting seas, the endless skies, we shall return, at journey’s end.

The desolation of an empty railway line in the central North Island on a damp, foggy day. Nothing much going on at all really. Another train will come down the track later, the energy in the lines overhead will bring it and the mist will lift. But this is the time between the lines, you just have to wait at the station sometimes…