When I look at the state of my hallway, muddy boots piled up, I would be forgiven if I thought that the planet I live on was a ball of dirt, not rock; that the rocks I see here about – that make my climber’s heart skip – are just like teeth or nails: appearing only here or there about the body of the place, but not the meat of it. Really the opposite is true, that the body is all tooth, nail, bone, hardness, the mud we live on, just a thin skin of dirty flesh.
The Difficulty with Difficult Things
The Difficulty with Difficult Things
The Difficulty with Difficult Things
When I look at the state of my hallway, muddy boots piled up, I would be forgiven if I thought that the planet I live on was a ball of dirt, not rock; that the rocks I see here about – that make my climber’s heart skip – are just like teeth or nails: appearing only here or there about the body of the place, but not the meat of it. Really the opposite is true, that the body is all tooth, nail, bone, hardness, the mud we live on, just a thin skin of dirty flesh.