The Grounded Flame VII

There is joy in the edges of the frame, of the moment, of becoming. The long limbs trace invisible arcs against still trees and cloudy sky. The figure’s motion seems to warm the cold land. This is the joy of becoming—not yet something else, but more fully what already is. Virginia Woolf says, “I am rooted, but I flow.” The photo does not declare—it listens, breathes, reaches.