“One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, "We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I'll make one. I'll make a voice like all of time and all of the fog that ever was; I'll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I'll make a sound that's so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and hearths will seem warmer, and being inside will seem better to all who hear it in the distant towns. I'll make me a sound and an apparatus and they'll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life."
The Fog Horn blew.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn
No fog horn needed here today as the tide was very far out and there were no ships or boats. Just the birds, the pollution and the mud. This is Thames, the place with the oldest (still operating) hospital in new Zealand. The pollution isn't visible much on this photo but my FB photos show that there is indeed a big "footprint of man" in this place.
The Fog Horn blew.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn
No fog horn needed here today as the tide was very far out and there were no ships or boats. Just the birds, the pollution and the mud. This is Thames, the place with the oldest (still operating) hospital in new Zealand. The pollution isn't visible much on this photo but my FB photos show that there is indeed a big "footprint of man" in this place.
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