All tracks, footprints, paths were gone. Buried. He had pitched a tent on arriving: how come it had not blown off? From inside, he watched the complex improvisations of the wind. He heard how it suddenly laughed with the sand, danced with the sand, amused and irritated the sand, amused itself and got irritated with the number of grains. And finally, it became, in its desire, a mad sand god dragging monstrous winged creatures off to conquer the world.
Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions
In a few steps, a familiar world made strange
Snow on sand births alien forms
Flecked horizon of Rothko greys
From a very brief walk along the shore at Limekilns, Fife on 28th February 2018, around 15.00. An encounter with the “Beast from the East”.
Now playing: Chaya Czernowin – Wintersongs
The low instruments were moving like the slow search of a plant towards light – CZ