In the great quietness of these winter evenings there is one clock: the sea. Its dim momentum in the mind is the fugue upon which this writing is made. Empty cadences of sea-water licking its own wounds, sulking along the mouths of the delta, boiling upon those deserted beaches– empty, forever empty under the gulls: white scribble on the grey, munched by clouds.
"In the quiet winter evenings, the sea becomes the only clock, symbolizing the passage of time and the rhythm of nature. Its slow, steady movements create a sense of contemplative silence that inspires this writing."
"The sea is depicted as a melancholic force, endlessly licking its wounds and simmering along deserted shores, emphasizing themes of emptiness and solitude. The imagery of birds and clouds adds to the somber, reflective mood of the scene."
