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Sept. 25, 2007 It was the time when the light of the day was going away and he heard the sound of water down where the trees started to become thick with themselves and thick with dark. That is where there was the evocation of some type of sacred mystery, maybe akin to the sacredness or mysteries talked about in some schools of religious or esoteric talk, or perhaps not, perhaps it was some kind of other mystery. Whatever the case, the eye could not see the stream, but only bark, and green, only shadow and the faintest sprinkles of sunlight. Once, long before, the walker had felt terror in forests, in the middle of winter, in the middle of his solitude. Where calmer souls extolled nature’s glory, he had known only vertigo, panic, and felt at once alienated and threatened by the vast sky, the brooding pathways, the cold and indifferent ravines where the ice melted sometimes under the brightness of noon, and began to gather together to itself to freeze once more under the cover of a new and seemingly demon filled night. But this was not then, no this was just another Indian summer, and the walker had long since grown tired of terror. He straightened his posture and kept on, and knew that in the dark by the streaming water there was nothing to be seen, not really, and wondered if pain and panic at the world were better than the dull tranquility of dusk nature noises, dusk nature noises that he had only hoped were evocative of intrigue and inner majesty, but were in fact reminiscent of nothing at all. ------------ Email: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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