Chandra Garsson

“Water droplets fell to earth whilst others embellished and baptised an abundance of webs. Their moistened silk threads resembled bridal veils as the sun fastened its gaze upon their shimmering fibres. Each possessed a weave unique to itself, intricate, though purposeful, strong yet submissive; delicate and melodious upon the eye.

As my senses trickled through the silvery gauze, I became liberated from the eggshell. All things became much more terrible and far more beautiful at once. A dragonfly emerging, wings a-glisten, from years of safe harbour below a dense and watery film. I beheld the texture of the world as would a blind man”
― Greg Howes