Sharp Tools

A spray of darker tone for the delectation of the sighted

The darkness is in matched cones, one forward and one back. Spumes of light and dark. What interrupted the quiet whispers of the pale thin winds then must have been a shock, too solid and too bright - and too soon accepted into the scenery. A night of jarring difference, perhaps, before a dawn of wonderment and awe, replaced by the next which was to bring only the same scene again, bereft of change.

For nearly a year.

Now, however, change has come, and it is curious - sniffing cautiously at the scene of this, its own one-time disturbance.

I have been transported, momentarily - the curiosity and inquisitiveness that made my distant ancestors come down from trees, till the soil, build cities, travel over the next hill - those qualities have suddenly liberated me across the scorched and freezing miles and embodied me in a clicking, whirring form of metal and plastic. I have come to see - and the view is wondrous.

It's unreasonable to be emotionally proud of a small machine, much less one I had no hand in building. But, damn it, I am, of both of them.

Keep rolling, little brothers. Keep seeing.

Posted by jbz at December 28, 2004 10:57 PM | TrackBack