Article voiceover
Before all else, it was her eyes— the dominant green ringed in blue shifting through morning’s elliptic rise, the rise that bleached scattered yellows & reds into pearl white space. By midday, more emerald-to-jade tempered with flat amber tones. When clouds came, some silent Maker brushed on veils of gray to match the rain before it fell. But at evening each iris hooped the dark into wide portals, a summons without words, the words of useless enclosure, the words that always flee into the faint light of afterthought not yet born. —Kevin Swanwick, August 2025,
Clearly stunning..