The wind raked her hair — the color of the dried grasses atop the bluff. Eyes the shade of the horizon followed a line from my finger to the rock. Fifteen feet up, emerging, a nest of scallops five million years dead. The next storm will shatter them, an evanscence there with us and over far too soon.
Ecology and the environment, space, world citizenship, global government, geography, big history, bizarre connections, speculations and a fair amount of miscellany.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Gorgeous!
There is a truly gorgeous piece of writing at Creek Running North you owe it to yourself to read.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment