Dramatic landscapes yield dramatic words.
Imagine you are overlooking an ancient metropolis. The city exists simply in between; it resides in the space where earth, sea and sky all convene. The skyline is littered with pillars of primordial stone and no two are alike. A thick layer of emerald moss covers each column, sparkling beneath the late-afternoon sun. Seagulls take turns carrying a chorus of cries as they circle through your frame, gliding like the paper airplanes you used to throw off the stairs of your childhood home. Waves crash along the shore below like competing sections of an orchestra, eventually swelling to a melodic peak.
Far above the ocean you stand, where long blades of grass are perpetually windswept, forever bent, leaning towards the city below. They are arrows pointing to the remarkable display. Your legs are tired from the journey so you collapse to your knees. And yet, you may as well be kneeling at the altar of the earth, honoring the sacred space in front of you.
Amidst the grandeur, you suddenly realize that you can’t stay here forever. In an effort to capture the beauty, you begin to take photographs. Predictably so, each click of the camera’s shutter is the sound of the world creating a boundary. You persist, hoping at least one image will be a proper representation. This authentic magnificence is non-transferable.
It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before, not even in your dreams. The view is more spectacular, more humbling, more emotional than you thought was possible. Mother Nature surprises you again. It’s the sight of intimate grandeur.
The Cliffs of Moher: you stand at the edge of the earth, only to discover it is where the world truly begins.
(Copyright 2017 – Jason Natzke)