The beach is flat, sand beige, granular, no shells, except for a single left shoe, black leather, size eleven, half buried at an angle. The pier extends straight into the water, wood untreated, grain visible, though the support posts vanish before they touch the surface. The sky is uniformly gray, no clouds, yet shadows stretch at sharp diagonals. A single gull sits on the railing, wings outstretched, frozen mid-flap, no movement.
The forest is saturated green, trees identical in height and width, trunks straight, bark texture repeating. One trunk leans diagonally yet the branches remain vertical. The moss is emerald, glistening, though each patch forms identical diamond shapes. A stream runs straight, perfectly linear, water clear, reflecting clouds not visible in the sky. No animals, no insects, but one leaf floats on the water, doubled, showing two overlapping shadows.
A dragon breathes fire at a kangaroo that is running away by climbing over the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Opera House visible in the background.
An endless tundra stretches outward, littered with jagged icebergs shaped like cathedral spires. A polar bear trudges across the foreground but leaves no tracks. Auroras ripple overhead. A half-buried shipwreck juts from the snow — sails billowing despite the still air.
Coronet Peak Night Skiing: Skiers in colorful LED suits carve their way down the slopes of New Zealand's Coronet Peak under the Aurora Borealis, the skiers' light trails visible behind them
With pre-dawn mist along a cedar forest river and glassy water dotted with lily pads, distant mountains blush pink, and a heron stands still like it forgot what to do next.
