When
you
follow
the
path
a
little
and
go
round
the
bend
the
landscape
changes... the
grass
isn't
green
anymore,
it's
tawny
and
smells
like
prairie,
no
irrigation
system
here.
None
of
the
three
cities
are
visible,
one
is
behind
your
back,
the
other
two
obscured
by
the
hills. The
wind
lashes
you,
strong
enough
to
have
to
push
through
to
move
forward.
it's
easy
to
let
your
mind
empty, thoughts
blow
away,
worries,
tension,
all
massaged
away
by
the
constant
wind. i
think
i'm
walking
on
garbage,
landfill.
the
hills
around
me
look
rather
majestic,
smaller
cousins
of
the
wild
hills
up
north,
but
i
think
they're
piles
of
garbage
too.
this
only
occurs
to
me
now,
at
the
time,
i
forget
this
fact
and
feel
like
i'm
in
some
lonely
place
far
away
from
my
everyday
life. I
walk
along
the
water
(something
white,
like
an
egret,
soars
past)
up
a
broad
hill,
through
a
patch
of
fir
trees
where
the
air
is
scented
with
resin,
i
swing
up
onto
a
branch
and
now
my
hands
are
sticky
with
it.
as
i
turn
and
begin
to
angle
back
down,
i
notice
my
shadow,
now
stretching
far
ahead
of
me,
i
raise
my
arm
and
my
shadow-arm
sweeps
across
the
grass,
flitting
over
a
few
dog-walkers
below.
my
shadow-head
is
so
far
away
that
it
looks
pin-sized,
while
my
shadow-feet
have
become
impossibly
enormous.
in
fact
they
seem
to
be
growing...
by
the
time
i'm
down
the
hill
they've
expanded
even
more,
boulder
sized,
giant
feet. As
i
stand,
surveying
my
distorted
shadow
self,
they
whiz
by
on
a
tandem.
bearded
man
in
front,
pedaling
furiously,
a
tiny
figure
in
bright
pink
on
the
small
seat
behind,
pedaling
very
slowly.
his
voice
carries
back
to
me,
shouting
over
the
wind
"SHADOWS
ARE
CAUSED
WHEN
AN
OBJECT
BLOCKS
THE
PATH
OF
THE
SUNLIGHT,
THE
LENGTH
OF
THE
SHADOW
IS
DETERMINED
BY
SOMETHING
CALLED
THE
ANGLE
OF
DISPLACEMENT...
I
WILL
DRAW
A
DIAGRAM
FOR
YOU
WHEN
WE
GET
HOME..."
and
they
begin
to
climb
up
the
windswept
garbage
hill
and
disappear
around
the
bend
of
the
path,
in
the
direction
of
the
setting
sun.
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