Canon Powershot S5 Is Slr Mi

cocoon

The hill consists of crushed, piled rocks, which slowly melts on the way to the top of each other. His back is very curved and covered with some pale reeds, but before it really goes down, the landscape abruptly breaks away from the sea. White cocoons hanging on the cliff by the sea breeze brings little rough for commuting. They shine only rested against the gray sky, fogged by the spray, which breaks in the sea on the rocks when it breathes.
Then breathe it in again, and flat, bare rock rinsed come to light that make up the coast a cautious line up, a silent moment, they are visible, before the waves crashing overwhelms them. The mirror
swells. The surface wrinkles under rough foam.
and then runs through a deep vibration of the hill. First, only in the rushes, shake the lazy and wait. Then the rock starts to grind, grind to scrape and, thin crack on seethes like a sudden hailstorm, until the first chunk trickle into the sea. A slowly growing body of breaking up fights, until a deep rift emerging in the back. More rocks fall, larger, one falls into a cocoon and beats him bloody, so that it starts to fluctuate twitching and confused. The evaporated salt in the wound, and another stone from the top it beats against the cliff, on whose dark surface, it leaves a dark spot, before he slowly staggered releases the last thread and crashed into the sea.
The sea opens its mouth, the crack runs through the entire hill and down to the bottom of the cockroaches is heavier, breaking up one half pours trembling and in large chunks into the sea between them. And the spray strikes against threatening the other half, as the rock fills the crack, as the vibration subsides, and the other half is with nothing there but a couple of reeds on the half back and the remaining two cocoons hanging by a thread of his Cliff dangle.
rippling under the wind whipping the sea as it moves back, and the rocks cracked line staring at the sky. Some are covered by seaweed, who trembles at the brittle air. At the foot of the hill
has left the sea some rough stones. When it returns, pulls and pulls it them, and when it goes, they press for new neighbors to their new neighbors have new neighbors and the sea at a stroke goes in between, because a cocoon is plunged into the water and came up with the waves. With him a piece of rotten sand.
And it echoes in every stone. This thin vibrating.