Friday Nudibranch Blogging

If you only knew.

Far from me, joyful as a flower dancing in the river at the tip of its aquatic stem, sad as seven pm in a mushroom bed.

Far from me yet silent in my presence and still joyful like a stork-shaped hour falling from on high.

Far from me at the moment when the stills are singing, at the moment when Hypselodoris bayeri curls up on its white pillows.

If you only knew.

Far from me, o my ever-present torment, far from me in the magnificent noise of oyster shells crushed by a night owl passing a restaurant at first light.

If you only knew.

(Photo by Wayne Atkinson, via Sea Slug Forum.)