Ile Milliau’s monster strides through the undergrowth. Bulging eyes set high upon its forehead. Glaring forward. Perpetually spewing foliage from gaping jaws. Worn fangs protruding through parted lips.
It marches toward twin pools of shade. Cast by adjacent feathered canopies. One hewn from granite, the other borne by a lofty scots pine. Each mimicking the other’s form.
Zen stacks stand tall, radiating a rounded calm, amid the island's hall-of-mirrors enchantment.
Below, lies a swathe of white-gold beach. Where paddle boarders play.
In its sheltered shallows. As the sands shelve gently into a lightly ruffled azure sea.
No comments:
Post a Comment