The dry season here is dusty. The Mack trucks roll past --- building a road to Congo -- and send the dust hundreds of feet into the air. It's like a fine brown talcum powder, it gets in your eyes, your hair, the keys of your laptop.
But the late afternoon sunset is a crisp circle of orange, like the sky has been hole-punched with fire. It almost makes it worthwhile.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment