Day Four Hundred Thirty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

At long last we found a way up off of the beach.

It was during one of our down times. Elijah sat facing the ocean while communing with the One. I found a rivulet that sank into the sand before reaching the sea and followed it back in hopes that it would lead to an opening in the cliff wall. Or perhaps even a valley that could carry us into the interior.

Instead its source was a pool at the foot of the rock wall, fed by a waterfall down its face.

And running parallel to it was a rickety stairway structure. I clambered to the top and there, sitting abandoned was a lovely villa.

I ran to fetch Elijah.

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Day Four Hundred Thirty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Well, we almost ruled out ever returning to the area south of the city.

It was the next logical step as we set out this morning. To our surprise we encountered no villages or even farms in that direction. At least until we realized there was no arable soil due to omnipresent rocks. A reality that increased as we went along.

That is until we made our way back along the rugged shoreline. There we ran into a tiny fishing village clinging to the sides of a perfect little cove. The fishing fleet was then out according to those left behind. And indeed we could make out small craft dotting the ocean between here and the city.

We shall return.

Day Three Hundred Seventy Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Staying in the open last night presented no problems. The heat of the day stayed with us, so it was comfortable.

Upon commencing our journey, we were surprised that the silence over the city was broken. Then we realized that the sounds were down in the dock area and most likely due to the offloading of containers from our ship.

The noise faded away as we increased our distance from the city.

We came across a stream which was flowing back towards the ocean. Elijah suggested that we follow it to its source, knowing that the home belonging to the Purser’s mother, is on a lake.

Before the setting of the sun, we had our first glimpse of the lake.

Day Three Hundred Thirty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

On deck the air radiated hot and oppressive, despite the fact of our swift forward motion. At the bow it was more akin to a blast furnace.

Elijah stayed in the sanctuary cabin over night and was missing from the vigil we were keeping on the bridge in the early dawn hours.  So I assumed he was still there.

Out of the grayness a wide expanse of ocean came into focus beyond the closing pincers of the enveloping morass.

The Captain despaired. In his judgment the welcome sight was still too far away.

But then it were as if we crossed a line into a polar region and a fierce wind blew from behind us forward, forcing the pincers apart.

Day Two Hundred Fifty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I saw the insides of a lot of basements in my morning rounds. For the most part they are the only things sure to be intact in those sectors I can set foot in.

Elijah has spent a lot of time with our host, answering his questions, and then asking some of his own.

Many, our host included, blame the former leader of this country for the devastation that has befallen it. They were glad to be rid of him, but now he has assumed control of the world government whose seat is far beyond the ocean. From there he promises to bring peace and safety, if all will only surrender to his power.

I sense the hand of Stan.

Day Two Hundred Fifty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We came to the mountain peak  at first light. Courtesy of the Spirit.

The view is unobstructed in all directions.  I wanted to see this view on our outbound trip weeks ago, but we kept to the pass which meanders by, far beneath us. We turn our backs on the flattened city with the fields and desert beyond and take in the other view. We see the walled city and its bridges where Elijah and I met.

Its distance means nothing. We could be there now if we wanted.

For now we wait.

I am intrigued by the ocean that awaits beyond that.

The One I Love

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The one I love

Loves the sea

Down by its roaring edge

She likes to be teased.

She joyously dances

Over each wave that advances

Watching curl upon curl

Unfurl and unfurl.

Now don’t think it odd

I think she is at play with God.

 

For the one I love

Loves the sea

And from its roaring edge

She smiles her love to me.

RWOz2

Written for my wife, and reposted here in celebration of her birthday month.