An albatross once landed on my head. We were both half asleep at the time. Apparently I was the most likely looking roost within hundreds of miles of ocean. When the albatross realized its mistake, my ears were softly boxed by its 6 foot wingspan as it struggled to gain altitude. It was like being enfolded by the wings of an angle. Fortunately it didn’t poop on my head.
thrasher reads 3 posterous blogs.
We're defined by our shadows as much as our substance on Aug 10
The memory of crows on Aug 08
Miles From Nowhere on Aug 06
The Suicide Forest on Jul 20
The universe as process: David Bohm's implicate order on Jul 06
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