Thirty years ago

 

He still lives by the sea in a small house

He loves to photograph with a Seagull Twin-lens reflex camera 

with 120 black and white negatives

Photographing the sunrise and sunset on the beach,

Developing photos in his own dark room

 

Thirty years later

We haven't meet 

They no longer live in that house

His son has grown up

Sometimes he take pictures with the film camera he left behind

But those black and white landscapes

Like him, lost in time.

​

Today, I imagine:

We glazing at the same ocean, press the shutter,

Picking up the forgotten scene t in the dark room.