Journeys through an ovine wasteland

Saturday, May 1, 2010


4:29 pm: Have returned to the bare, unmarked borderlands where no language gets through. Lone sentinel greets me - in wind-furrowed garments - at the final crest. No words are spoken.

4: 50 pm: A standoff. Momentary tension as hooves steady to position in the bony soil. The flock disperses. Silent knowledge held only between brothers.

5:40 pm: The party has retreated to evening pastures, leaving me alone in threadbare clothes and skin flushed red from exposure. Good Lord, but I am thankful for Spring's final arrival in Estérençuby.

Map Coordinates

1 comment:

  1. best one yet.

    this concept has so much potential. there are SO MANY animals in the world...