Northern Apex

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a man. This man was a quiet man, and lived a quiet life of what the poet William Blake calls firm persuasion. The land in which this quiet man lived was a quiet land, compared to some, and had a great many fewer Starbucks scattered about than the busier, more self-important lands.

This quiet man in the quiet land lived quietly in a small cave by a winding river of asphalt. In the isolation of the evenings and nights the quiet man listened to the passage of many voyagers along this river in conveyances of every size, color and shape, all apparently heading to very important places on very important errands. The quiet man paid keen attention to all these comings and goings, the ebb and flow along the asphalt river, and he began to be able to tell time without a clock by listening to these currents cycle though their daily surges from his cave on the bank of the river.

The quiet man in the quiet land lived in the small cave by the asphalt river with his very small companion Grey Bear. Both the quiet man and Grey Bear were tattered and torn and much the worse for wear from life's circumstances and the time in the small cave was a time for healing and introspection and self-reflection for them both. During the days the quiet man ventured forth to a much larger cave nearby and toiled diligently there to provide life's essentials for himself and Grey Bear. The quiet man and Grey Bear rarely looked beyond their small cave on the banks of the asphalt river, not even to see what might be on the other side. In their fashion, the quiet man and Grey Bear were content with their life in the quiet land in the small cave by the banks of the winding river of asphalt. And then one day . . . .

# posted by Alaska Steve @ 11:30 PM