
DAILY PHOTO: Appalachian Mountains
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the perfect tree
sits on a flat boulder -
roots clawing rock;
stunted and deformed,
but very much alive

through the tree gap
cold mountains glow warm
in the setting sun
The cloud mimicked a mountain top, its ridge sun fired to bright white by the rising sun, its shadow side in granite gray, being impenetrable to the sun's rays. Mountains that imposing live a thousand miles away, but that cloud took me there. the morning sun lights up a dense cloud to mimic mountains
fogged in at a teahouse, a growing gray of view, this world lacks sharp lines, excepting the hint of: -a sloping roofline & -a building's corner these lines are sharp relative to the amorphous gray; but fuzzy compared to the same line's clarity on a blue sky day now, they're blurred, as if the village had been painted by a skilled - but lazy - painter, a sumi-e master with a melancholy soul
Flipping open the tent flap, I see a vast and glowing night sky. It's not the shabby patch of light points of my sky at home. Here, high in the mountains, far from any city, I can make out bands of color and dazzling webs of luminosity. And I can feel the tininess that past men must have felt, a diminished sense of importance that's hard to come by for a human standing on the Earth, where flags are planted everywhere and grand monuments to our pomposity are packed into dense clusters. mountain sky. the cloudless night glows infinite