Sunday, March 11, 2012
Timed Writing: 3/5/2012
Time: 10 minutes
Source photo: P1250178 by mjulius
Pillars of natural stone rose from either side of the rain-scrubbed dirt road. Bare rock faces on the hillsides peeked through festoons of bushes and hanging vines. I had a momentary impression that the mountains in this part of the world had experienced late growth spurts after all of the soil and foliage had been distributed, such that the earth's skin tore and its bones showed through.
I had more opportunity to admire the view on that day than on many previous. The rain had stopped, the air was clear, and the road over which my bicycle rolled was clear of debris and pot-holes. I still hadn't seen any sign of civilization -- except, of course, the road itself -- for almost a week, but the recent decrease in fallen trees and unrepaired clefts across my path suggested that I might be approaching a more habited region.
I was, as it turned out, quite correct, for by mid-afternoon I had saw herds of domestic cattle and small shacks with some regularity. To each building were strung electrical power lines, from mains that had appeared parallel to the road at some point when I wasn't paying attention. Before I saw any actual human beings, however, something occurred which, though seemingly insignificant at the time, would prove important.
(about my timed writing exercises)
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