Seaside. Broadside, wide-angled lens. There is a straight line against the skyline. A tankard gives it a shipping lane on the white of the sky. A perfect line until you get there. Slightly elevated, it would be a curve, the shape of the planet. Gorgeous pale blues and the dots of birds provide some movement. Like the life guards training in their high viz oranges. If I were in Paris, you would see me there in the tree-lined boulevard of artists – next to the Seine – with other water colours, a canvas and a brush of words, while the poodles and their walkers stroll gently by.
© Rick Frame