For the breath of life is in the sunlight
and the hand of life is in the wind.
I grew up in Wyoming where wind is a way of life. Any wind can and will knock you over.
You will not see a hanging traffic light for it would not last the week or even the day, depending upon the “hand of life.”
This is life on a high plains desert, stark and bright, a geological paradise. Wide open and windblown, a land of mountains and buttes that was once an inland sea.
Its story is written in the geology, its strata for all to see.
This morning, it was -51°F in Laramie, WY, so cold that anything can and will break. One does not pause long in this still sea of white waves.
Such mornings are why I live in Florida, a state that was also once an inland sea. Mine is a sea story of moving from a mile high and higher to sea level and below.
It is not inconceivable that both states will one day return to inland sea status. Already, Florida shores shrink into the sea. A massive West Coast earthquake, some models show, may result in a coast line as far inland as Wyoming.
This morning in Tallahassee it was 51°F when I opened my laptop, simultaneously seeing Laramie at -51°F.
Both sides of a mirror, sea to sea.
The hand of life still.