Journalled on 22 April 2001
In the state of Arizona there’s a desert. Saguaro cactus grow, sparingly. Lizards stretch out on hot rocks under a scorching sun. Ants burrow into sand to find a cooler home.
I sense scant life, baking heat and, caught fraught with the fragile life of the creatures here — overwhelming need for water.
The roots of desert shrubs dig deep, deep into the sand. Far below where the last root surrenders its desire for moisture, through a vast subterranean cavern unlit by any Sun, flows a river so huge and deep no one has named it, or even thought that it might need a name.
If we make our hearts still, and close our eyes, and feel with our toes, we can sense that river, coursing far beneath us, flowing on to some yet vaster, deep and deeper, hidden sea.
Alice B. Clagett
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