Tuesday, 11 September 2012

APPROACHING THE TETONS FROM ABOVE

For hours now it's been squiggle-rivers bisecting countless sharp-edged blocks of greens and browns, rarely gold. Occasionally one squiggle runs right into a puddle-lake and even more occasionally escapes it. Now suddenly it's grey-black pokey-mountains and dapples of snow, solid white. As if a cluster of clouds decided to band together and come in for a landing. To take a break from endless wandering. To take a chance on being solid for a change. To cuddle together and rest.

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Lynn Whittemore

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