Is it possible that I spent too much time overthinking the beauty and ironies of driftwood in Seward this past weekend?
For me, driftwood displays soul through its form. It appears well traveled. It grays with age. Its rough edges smooth over time. It settles on places it had never considered as a possible final home.
In the case of this photo, it presents an excellent pedestal for Layla. And now that I think of it, I'm but a pedestal for her, too. She certainly makes me look better when she's in the photo.