Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.44.0203111432400.5103-100000@panix2.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>,
"WRYTING-L : Writing and Theory across Disciplines" <WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA>
Subject:
Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2002 14:32:56 -0500 (EST)
- the coot aren't plentiful as before; some areas seem inundated, some | relatively dry. we pull ourselves among the mangrove roots; i climb out in | the midst of golden orb and shield spiders. later, poison ivy wound its | way around everything, we watched egrets preening, a lone woodstork on top | of a pine. these hunkered down in solution holes surrounded by alligator | flag. earlier, a common yellowthroat. later, fireflies, more brilliant | than ever. they're condensations of angels; they will light the way. rain | and no rain coming. land's end and delineation of the rest of the world, | the center. of nothing, the beyond. :behind the pelican, loons, i think, | distant as ever. the anhinga are close to leaving the nest, trying their | wings; we see only two, the third may have already left, may have died. in | the dusk a dark snake crosses. earlier, a black mangrove snake in attack | mode, the camera closing in. later, the bald eagle hatchling close to | leaving as well, dark-headed, world-surveying. on turner river, parade of | alligators. earlier, an old crocodile at land's end, turned from the | water; he'll follow inundation, come safe and harbored in. :everglades, | we're pushed to the edge, land's end, down in the water, we're returning | on the highway, running 60, there's a thing in the road, dark alligator, | we're thrown to a halt, run out, stop traffic. she's sitting there. we | wave cars and trucks slow around. someone comes, moves the tail. she | gets up hissing, trots off, we get back in the car, take off. there's | everglades deer ahead on the right - elusive in these parts, they run off. | on the mangrove roots, closeup: barnacles, limpets, mussels, mangrove | oysters, worm tubings. i dream of land's end images, they claw at me, go | down in water of the continent. :fakahatchie: _