Twitter Travelogue with no Name

I have found it easier to tweet than to write an entire blog entry when doing a sponti roadtrip; one which precludes the laptop and wifi access, but panders to the way my mind now interprets big sights into small sentences. Here now for those who followed the Twitter words: the pictures. And for those who couldn’t make “heads nor tails” of it all, I flip the coin for you…

Twitter is like connecting dots where there are no ‘i’s

Gnarled, beetle-scorched old men of the forest reveal elephant-hide-like living graveyards

Lumber-wafting rapids ease into glacial lakes; meanwhile railway sleepers slumber neatly zippering the man-made interplay

Thoughts thunder theatrically through timeline-tripping transitions

The lady in the sweetie shoppie recalls razor straps; I chirp in with memories of The Belt: high school candies.

Ghostly inhabitants of the heritage town come alive at closing time: a live cricket field flies with abandonment

Foam-smothered rocks, de-stressed by years of rough massage from the precipitation that divides a continent [ SFX Vienna Teng/Warm Strangers ]

Matchstick char herald another day; baby growth, triggered by heat-busting germination, fires up a new generation of forest [ SFX Carmina Burana / Carl Orff ]

A shower of raining flies at sunset, before the moonrise bats come out to feast [ SFX Drip, drip, drop, little fly-part hailstones... ]

Choosing routes: a basketful of fruit vale seals the deal: no border crossing until the last pipsqueak is devoured.

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