Day One Thousand Seventy Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We wandered the rest of the day without striking Sy’s well. I could tell his frustration was mounting at his inability to locate it.

Finally Elijah signaled for a halt in an area we all judged fit for a camp.

Sy, however, continued to roam about, muttering he was sure it was near at hand. The next morning the Captain stumbled upon it. Actually he tripped and fell on his face.

The well had been filled in, packed with rocks. We gathered around it on our knees to remove them. Only to discover the water there had been befouled too. Unfit to drink.

Elijah took up his staff and stirred the water with its tip, drawing out all the impurities.

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Day One Thousand Sixty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The Captain had been correct that a dramatic event would be the sign. And everything else lined up after that.

The direction Mawuli indicated, coincided with the unstated one held by Elijah.

(I think he was actually taken by surprise).

So, the morning found our group climbing up the mountain, not down as everyone originally thought, but hiking up the path beside the stream bed.

Elam and Sy took pains helping Elijah and me over some of the trickier sections.

Something was still flowing down the rocks of the stream bed. Yet slowly, for it was drying in the sun.  And the heavy metallic odor gained in intensity as we reached the top.

Where carnage was spread out before us.

Day One Thousand Fourteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We passed the night in a cave. A little cramped, but no one was forced to stay outside.

There was frost on the rocks when we emerged to take up our trek, so we had to watch our footing. Even when it melted, the rock bed of our path remained slick.

Reuben and I took turns helping Elijah along the narrow stretches. Just about everyone slipped but our trio. Thankfully there were no serious injuries. If anything the hurts were to their dignity, and, thankfully again, those were not lasting. And when handled in the right spirit, instructive.

Reuben noticed this, and that fact pleased both Elijah and myself.

We passed the summit of this route and are now descending.

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.

Photos at my Feet

My wife thinks I take the oddest photos. (Actually I prefer video, but she thinks that’s odd too). There are times that I am arrested by a particular view. She refers to those shots that I snap of the sights that appear on the ground before me.

We recently delighted ourselves with a walk on the beach in Lincoln City, OR. My wife, with her steady hand caught these views:

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I shot some video. Later, when the camera was in her hands again, I saw these views and whipped out my iPod to capture them:

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Maybe sometime soon I’ll share my shots of the floors at the Louvre.