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August 7, 2007
There is no horizon here. The world simply rises into hills. Beyond them, other hills – paler, less defined. People look out at walls, all day, every day. Beautiful, rolling, richly colored walls, but walls nonetheless. No one ever sees the sun set or rise. I think of stories of indigenous jungle dwellers who never develop depth perception and wonder what lack of horizon does to the psyche. There is no chance to stare into eternity; no opportunity to look beyond world’s end. Perspective is shortened, all the world is right here. How does hope come with no space to land?