A boy notices everything around him that can be shy--a seedling slow to sprout, a marker timid to let its color out. But no one accuses objects of being too shy. On a seaside stroll home from school with his older brother, the boy doesn't feel shy at all. Because, like the ocean tides, sometimes we're shy, and sometimes we're like big, booming waves with a lot to say at the end of the day.
A lyrical exploration of situational shyness, and how sometimes inanimate objects can be shy too.
A boy notices everything around him that can be shy--a seedling slow to sprout, a marker timid to let its color out. But no one accuses objects of being too shy. On a seaside stroll home from school with his older brother, the boy doesn't feel shy at all. Because, like the ocean tides, sometimes we're shy, and sometimes we're like big, booming waves with a lot to say at the end of the day.
A lyrical exploration of situational shyness, and how sometimes inanimate objects can be shy too.