The infinite complexity is indistinguishable from moment to moment, gradiating slowly from sparse open canopies to vibrant green and faded yellow wilderness.

The scree enveloping the landscape on scale, texturing the slopes with its offering of ever changing nooks and cranny’s, burrows and pits. It is evidence that much like the flaky pale spots that both characterise and occupy the hundreds upon hundreds of rocks, the mountain is alive.

The winding road blurring beneath as tyres slip, grip and handle the gravely path which leads ever descending through blind bends and over rippling pot holes. The constant too and fro matching the methodical jutter and ever present humming of the car; forcing and absent minded abandonment of orientation. And as the infinite indistinguishable complexity continues, the only discernible direction becomes not left, right, up or otherwise. No, all that remains is down.


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