Leaving Lothlórien
In this image, a lone paraglider floats above the vast expanse of the ocean off the cliffs of La Jolla in San Diego. He's Bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. The horizon stretches endlessly, blurring the line between sky and sea, creating a sense of infinite space and boundless possibility. Stay up there long enough, and you might not know which way is up or down without the reminder of gravity.
I felt an undeniable melancholy while photographing this scene, a quiet sadness that echoes the feeling of leaving something beautiful behind. Your first sunset on the California coast feels like letting out breath you didn't know you were holding. And then every breath after feels like the first taste of oxygen in your lungs. Everything before that was a Red Label. Now you're sipping on Louis Xiii, baby. And though you know you can't stay forever, that the road to capitalism political division, and life expectations will drag you back like a Siren's song, you know that pieces of the coast will stay with you long after you've gone.
It's time to move on, it's time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
Tom Petty
In this image, a lone paraglider floats above the vast expanse of the ocean off the cliffs of La Jolla in San Diego. He's Bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. The horizon stretches endlessly, blurring the line between sky and sea, creating a sense of infinite space and boundless possibility. Stay up there long enough, and you might not know which way is up or down without the reminder of gravity.
I felt an undeniable melancholy while photographing this scene, a quiet sadness that echoes the feeling of leaving something beautiful behind. Your first sunset on the California coast feels like letting out breath you didn't know you were holding. And then every breath after feels like the first taste of oxygen in your lungs. Everything before that was a Red Label. Now you're sipping on Louis Xiii, baby. And though you know you can't stay forever, that the road to capitalism political division, and life expectations will drag you back like a Siren's song, you know that pieces of the coast will stay with you long after you've gone.
It's time to move on, it's time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
Tom Petty
In this image, a lone paraglider floats above the vast expanse of the ocean off the cliffs of La Jolla in San Diego. He's Bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. The horizon stretches endlessly, blurring the line between sky and sea, creating a sense of infinite space and boundless possibility. Stay up there long enough, and you might not know which way is up or down without the reminder of gravity.
I felt an undeniable melancholy while photographing this scene, a quiet sadness that echoes the feeling of leaving something beautiful behind. Your first sunset on the California coast feels like letting out breath you didn't know you were holding. And then every breath after feels like the first taste of oxygen in your lungs. Everything before that was a Red Label. Now you're sipping on Louis Xiii, baby. And though you know you can't stay forever, that the road to capitalism political division, and life expectations will drag you back like a Siren's song, you know that pieces of the coast will stay with you long after you've gone.
It's time to move on, it's time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
Tom Petty