Friday, January 04, 2008

the birds can always fly

These pictures don't fully communicate what it is to be standing on the brown earth, the air so frozen all the water is wrung out of it, watching the pastel grays and blues and oranges of the sunrise, alone but for the cold, a subtle presence encroaching on the boundaries of self, turning everything translucent and alien. These pictures don't do this justice, but they are what the camera captured.

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