Spires

Jason // August 9 // 0 Comments

Slowly the spires rose from the Hazel wood, straining to reach the very tops of the clouds. This journey has taken for ever, yet it happened in the blink of the cosmic eye.

The waterfall Alltan na Srione escapes from the surging stone to write its own tale down the slope to the sea that tingles the tunes below. I cannot climb this face. Threat looms in the mossy ridges.

I want to see what’s up there, I want to own that view too. To feel the Loki call of An Sithean is to know the tarot Tower, the runic Hagalaz.

Sweet destruction lies on that temptress facade. I will not climb today. I would not return.

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About the Author Jason

Jason follows his lifelong vocation as a countryside photographer who tries to catch the spirit of the places he visits. After decades working as a professional editorial photographer he now focuses much of his time on conceptual fine art photography, visual storytelling and in aiding others to follow their creative calling.

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