The tracks shining in the wet lamplight ran on toward the gateshack and beyond to where they lay embedded in the bridge like great surgical clamps binding those disparate and fragile worlds and the cloudcover had moved off down from the Franklins and south toward the dark shapes of the mountains of Mexico standing against the starlit sky. - Cormac McCarthy, Cities of the Plain
The tracks shining in the wet lamplight ran on toward the gateshack and beyond to where they lay embedded in the bridge like great surgical clamps binding those disparate and fragile worlds and the cloudcover had moved off down from the Franklins and south toward the dark shapes of the mountains of Mexico standing against the starlit sky. - Cormac McCarthy, Cities of the Plain
Oh lovely! Thank you for bringing some necessary McCarthy to my day!
Non-Present foxes deserve a poem now and then, as well as Present foxes!
Yes! Sometimes you just have to write about the foxes that aren't there.
My husband did add that he's seen a fox in our yard. Now I'm quite disappointed that I missed the event.