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Pyroclastic Flow at Sunset

This summer, readers are likely to hear me rhapsodize over soft sagebrush hills and their shadows at dawn and dusk. And more times than they need. It didn't even take one day to start mooning and swooning.

But shifting my view to the forested top of a high hill, it was easy to be almost troubled by it. The green forest seemed to be slowly sloughing off the top of the hill, causing it to invade my sagebrush hills.

It is strange to think of a forest on the march. Oh sure, Macbeth reminds us, "Fear not, till Birnam Wood do come to Dunsinane." Or maybe it was the news and photos of the creeping malevolence of lava on the Big Island of Hawaii.

It was certainly a reminder of how important it is for the observer to properly prepared, in order to be strongly affected by "beauty", which would in fact become boring rather quickly, otherwise. 

Earlier in the day my dog and I had slowly seeped up that 1500 feet or so of hill, on the mountain bike. At sunset, some of that still sat inside me.

What good luck it is to be reading a biography of Leonardo da Vince right now. In describing how Leonardo was influenced by his master, when he was an apprentice, especially in sculpture, Isaacson says, "The sense of motion turns the statue into a narrative."

Indeed it does, and that happened with the lava-like green forest at sunset, today. 


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