Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A clear and innocent sun, newborn and wide-eyed, looked down on the earth. Shattered trees and palms were strewn over the ground like kindling. The fountains overflowed in cascades of silver luminescence. But the flowers had been struck to the earth like frail and colored corpses. All at once the sweetest odor rose from the ground and from the broken roses and the tossed jasmine. Birds took up a timid song of thanksgiving for preservation. The voice of the river, too close, conversed loudly and in agitation to the sky. Quicksilver ran everywhere, through beaten grass and fallen trees, and from trunks and leaves.
— Taylor Caldwell, Dear and Glorious Physician p. 115 #
