@peacedog / kazuhira miller
Ocean birds were a rare sight for Cécile. She had traveled to Costa Rica for the Latin American population of birds, intent on studying their distribution, and now she was aboard an ocean base filled soldiers and rebels and all sorts. A radical change of pace but one that she found herself enjoying.
As she often did when she had a spare moment, Cécile was bird watching near the railing. The waves and distance made it too difficult to record, but she carried her sketchbook and had a keen eye. It was only a brief peripheral glance, when she was trying to tame her windswept hair, that she noticed Kaz’s approach.
Cécile half turned, sketchbook tucked under her arm, and waved. “Salut, Monsieur Miller. What brings you over here? There are no steam locomotives for you here, only the sounds of nature.” She could not help but tease a little.










