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They do not Intrude on Each Other

Curve-billed Thrasher, Alamogordo NM, November 12, 2011

The San Francisco Mountain lies in northern Arizona, above Flagstaff, and its blue slopes and snowy summit entice the eye for a hundred miles across the desert. About its base lie the pine forests of the Navajos, where the great red-trunked trees live out their peaceful centuries in that sparkling air. The pinons and scrub begin only where the forest ends, where the country breaks into open, stony clearings and the surface of the earth cracks into deep canyons. The great pines stand at a considerable distance from each other. Each tree grows alone, murmurs alone, thinks alone. They do not intrude on each other. ...

The Song of the Lark, Willa Cather, p265, Houghton Mifflin Co paperback edition 1987

clipped February 1, 2003

Collection: Natural Science

Collection: Word Play