The vibration of late-summer in the short flight of grasshoppers. No one but my shadow around for miles and miles. Swimming in the still waters of an avalanche. Spiralwood husks as bridges into the infinite wilderness. A standing deadwood sculpture, with a chipmunk antler. Another long-fallen, trunk ground into acorn-colored meal. Lakes stacked atop one another in the distance. Glittering sapphire disks framed by the end of the world. Slowly the mountainsides are swallowed by The Nothing of the setting sun.
11:22 p.m. - 2020-09-30
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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