[et_pb_section fb_built="1" admin_label="section" _builder_version="4.27.4" min_height="100px" height="100px" global_colors_info="{}"][et_pb_row column_structure="3_5,2_5" _builder_version="4.27.4" _module_preset="default" global_colors_info="{}"][et_pb_column type="3_5" _builder_version="4.27.4" _module_preset="default" global_colors_info="{}"][et_pb_image src="https://thelandscapeilluminated.com/wp-content/uploads/maryland-barn.jpg" title_text="maryland-barn" force_fullwidth="on" _builder_version="4.27.4" _module_preset="default" global_colors_info="{}"][/et_pb_image][/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type="2_5" _builder_version="4.27.4" _module_preset="default" global_colors_info="{}"][et_pb_text _builder_version="4.27.4" _module_preset="default" hover_enabled="0" global_colors_info="{}" sticky_enabled="0"] “…then life is dead gone underground withered old dry cold brown grey clattering in the ice blue sky.” This collection explores the fragility, exuberance, and impermanence of life. It was written over a year in the early 1970s on a farm in Maryland. We lived in a two-story 19th-century tenant house at the edge of a large old farm. Rambles into the nearby forests and fields inspired a stark mindfulness […]
The Waves
The waves, the waves, pounding the dark stretch of sand. And I, not far away, can not sleep, determine not to weep, at the sound of the sea from which I came. “Return…return.”, it whispers in the night. “One day you will. Return to me.”