Where the sky stops being sky

There is a moment, out at sea, when sky and water cease to be two separate things. The light does not come from above — it comes from everywhere. Diffuse, without hard shadows, without a vanishing point.

These images were made from a ferry heading west, on a January crossing. I was not looking for anything specific — I was looking for exactly this: the moment when light behaves like matter.

The horizon holds its place. Everything else moves.