Friday, July 15, 2011
We seem to do a lot, here, with things of the earth; stones, gardens, wood. It keeps us connected in some way, reminds me that this, really, is all there is. Under the city, or the parking lot, or the interstate. is the memory of stone, flowers, wood. If you leave it unrepaired long enough, whatever was there will soon enough revert back to what it once was. Man can only make a temporary mark on the land (Mt. Rushmore being one horrid exception) and that's somehow comforting to know.
Posted by mittens at 2:55 PM