I was so excited to go diving today that I forgot to post my nightly writing before I left and after I got back. It was a gorgeous day and a nice dive. Thanks for asking.
July 2--Kizhi Island, Russia. The island is long and narrow like it was squeezed up out of the sea. I picture two great hands, fingers together, pressing and shaping the primordial ooze like potter's clay. It rises slick and shiny into a peak which the hands smooth a bit, not too much, just enough so that a few hardy organisms, fungi and lichens and tough grasses can find a few centimeters of surface to cling to. The edges of the island aren't straight, our imaginary artist abhors straight lines, but left jagged. Natural, he says. Some say it's an excuse for his sloppy work but I see the opportunities he has made for trees to shade the spine and shrubs to gather in corners so that every aspect of the long thin precarious place has its own special charm.
Okay, there you go. Now I can go do tonight's prompt, or maybe I'll wait until tomorrow, I'm awfully tired.
--Barbara
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