miðvikudagur, nóvember 01, 2006


Below my window a ginko glows acid autumn yellow. Its little fans glare against the gray. Such an ancient tree---not this one in particular but the species as a whole.

I sit here pondering the thirteenth century considering the ninth and tenth century, all recent past in comparison. Rowan is Þór's salvation, it says here. What long-forgotten god or power walked the earth when the ginko was young? Whose hand grabbed at its trunk to save himself being swept away?

(Was he swept away regardless. Is that why we do know know his name or even his story?)

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