He was standing in an old road, rutted and ancient, that wound up a black hill towards the sky, where a great flock of black birds was gathering. The birds were like black letters against the grey of the sky. He thought that in a moment he would understand what the writing meant. The stones in the ancient road were symbols foretelling the travelers journey.
24 November 2008
Wonder of Wonders
The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder. -- G. K. Chesterton
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