You don't often notice many seagulls in southern Wisconsin if you aren't near one of the lakes. But every spring and fall, when the fields are plowed under, I see flocks of them picking around the rippling lines of freshly turned black soil. The surrounding hills curve down like dark waves. This particular field had a big tree growing out of the middle of it, like the spout of some great stone whale underneath.
Archival giclee print.
Signed and labeled Colors - black, brown, blue Unframed