![ontheborderland:
Bise at low tide, Okinawa, Japan.
If you couldn’t tell from the name of this blog, I’ve always liked liminal places and concepts: twilight, dawn, staircases, caves, ghosts, the Republic of China, sea-shores, houses humans have left behind, not entirely one thing or another. I suppose this is what happens when you are born on a cusp on the border of two states when autumn leaves are fast sliding into the first flurries of winter.
A weekend trip to the sea-shore left me with an angry red moon on the back of my neck—it’s entirely possible to get sunburned in March. And rather ironically, I probably caused more damage to my health by forgetting to apply sunscreen than I would from eating irradiated spinach in Tokyo. Still entirely worthwhile. Okinawa is full of liminal places, after all.
[BTW, that chasm in the photograph is nearly fifty feet deep, if not more. The sea is crystal clear, as if gazing in a scrying glass, but toward the bottom of the slice taken out of the shelf that Okinawa sits on, it appears a sinister yet beguiling black color.]](http://www.tumblr.com/photo/1280/roamin/4153135111/1/tumblr_lignjq17qk1qzfoxx)
Bise at low tide, Okinawa, Japan.
If you couldn’t tell from the name of this blog, I’ve always liked liminal places and concepts: twilight, dawn, staircases, caves, ghosts, the Republic of China, sea-shores, houses humans have left behind, not entirely one thing or another. I suppose this is what happens when you are born on a cusp on the border of two states when autumn leaves are fast sliding into the first flurries of winter.
A weekend trip to the sea-shore left me with an angry red moon on the back of my neck—it’s entirely possible to get sunburned in March. And rather ironically, I probably caused more damage to my health by forgetting to apply sunscreen than I would from eating irradiated spinach in Tokyo. Still entirely worthwhile. Okinawa is full of liminal places, after all.
[BTW, that chasm in the photograph is nearly fifty feet deep, if not more. The sea is crystal clear, as if gazing in a scrying glass, but toward the bottom of the slice taken out of the shelf that Okinawa sits on, it appears a sinister yet beguiling black color.]
