Day Eight Hundred Thirty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I asked Elijah if we could rise before nightfall and  go off our current vector to check over in the area where the barking had ceased.

It also meant a little back tracking, but ended up worthwhile. The sand gave way to bedrock and after a short search we found some water in a pool on the rock surface. It had been fouled by the presence of animals. Unclean for sure.

Elijah found the close by pump and basin whose spillage fed the other. (He practically tripped over it in the darkness).

We were back on track, so we decided to halt and rest.

With the dawn we were able to reacquire our bearings before taking up our alternating watches.

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.

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.

Day Two Hundred Seven Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

From the top of the first dune, I saw the distant point at which I am aiming. A patch of green standing out against all this sand.

I could not see it from every ridge, but often enough to keep my heading.

Now for a time of rest under the tent of my garment.