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In the distance smoke rises.
I can see a single column from behind a building.
As we drive closer, it seems to shift; but always it's a single column; it's not spreading.
We drive around the building, and the column of smoke is...emanating from mid-air.
No...no it's not. It clings to the side of a burned hill, walking this way and that over the ground.
It's not a fire, it's not smoke. It's a willy-willy, twisting and turning over the burned ground, sucking old ash into the air in a column.
So pretty, so beautiful, so fascinating, so perfect.
I can see a single column from behind a building.
As we drive closer, it seems to shift; but always it's a single column; it's not spreading.
We drive around the building, and the column of smoke is...emanating from mid-air.
No...no it's not. It clings to the side of a burned hill, walking this way and that over the ground.
It's not a fire, it's not smoke. It's a willy-willy, twisting and turning over the burned ground, sucking old ash into the air in a column.
So pretty, so beautiful, so fascinating, so perfect.
