A Picture Can’t

A Picture Can'tWhat you can’t see, is an almost identical tree much closer to the camera, although just left of the frame. What you can’t see, is a historical fort much further in the distance, although just right of the frame. What you can’t see, is where the ocean seems to go on forever, that hazy line of the horizon that shapes our world.

What you can’t smell, is a naturally sweet aroma that slowly fills your nostrils, a sanguine scent you wish you could bottle and carry with you always. Its source: pink petals in a boisterous green bush crowding the edge of the tarred path; also what you can’t see.

What you can’t smell, as your pink petal trance lifts you into a natural paradise, is a combination of Salty Ocean Water and Water Treatment Plant, until it subtly makes its way through the breeze and into your world, snapping your nose and head into a distressed but sharp focus.

What you can’t feel, is the breeze carrying that undesirable combination, lifting the hairs on your arm up slightly enough to keep you cool, along with the comfortable shade; a refuge from the hot sun illuminating the fluid gateway of the bay. But that
you can see.

What you can’t hear, is the soft smacking of sneaker soles on pavement behind the camera; a modern sound contrasting the excited chirping of birds, unseen in the trees and greenery until they flutter above you; don’t blink, you may not see them.

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