drove to fayetteville in the afternoon and then out hwy. 92 to sweetwater creek --- passed through the wreckage of exurban real estate, with great stone-walled entrances to bankrupt subdivisions, landscaped but grown up in broom sage, streets and utilities to houses that aren't there ---- we had the creek purty much to ourselves
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tomitron
at
4/01/2011 08:27:00 PM
Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.
The seed of our destruction will blossom in the desert, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cutpurse went unhung. Each moment is the fruit of forty thousand years. The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and every moment is a window on all time.
john northbrooke, c. 1570
1 comment:
amazing visitor's center at sweetwater.
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