April 12, 2008
The long breeze is a hunter. It has been that way for so long that it has forgotten what it hunts. Still the instinct is strong and it moves in strides, along the sides of buildings, down into the city canyons, and over the tops of forests. It moves quietly, feeling its way, watching for its prey, always alert and ready. It has become over the eons a thing ready, a potential with no trigger, and it feels this loss without understanding the point of reference. Something it knows is missing, but still the movement continues; the stalk goes on.