[ He sighs again, and seems on the verge of a tremendous outburst, one that would make all his others look small. But then he's calm again and musing.
They walk on. The forest shifts, mammoth trees giving way to slender, more gracefully branching species, and here and there are patches of high, waving grass.
They peer into an open place, a deep, wild valley, where they can see distant mountains, and green slopes, a ragged and rambling wood breaking here and there for spaces of blowing wheat or some other form of wild grain. The woods creep up into the hills and into the mountains, sending its roots deep into the rock; and as they grew closer to the valley, through the branches they see the glitter and twinkling light of a river or sea.
They emerge from the older forest. This is a marvelous and fertile land. Flowers of yellow and blue grew in profusion, caught this way and that in dancing gusts of color. The trees are olive trees and fruit trees, and have the low, twisted branches of trees from which food has been gathered for many generations. The sunlight pours down upon all.
They walk through tall grasses - the wild wheat perhaps - to the edge of the water, where it laps very gently without a tide, and is clear and shimmering as it shrinks back, exposing the extraordinary array of pebbles and stones.
He can see no end to this water either to the right to the left, but he can see the far bank and the rocky hills growing down towards it as if they were as alive as the roots of the straggling green trees.
The landscape behind them now was the same. The rocky hills, rising eventually to mountains, with miles upon miles of scalable slopes, copses of fruit trees, black, open mouths of caves.
Lucifer says nothing.
He is stricken and sad and staring down at the waters, and to the far horizon where the mountains come as if to close in the waters, only to be forced to let the waters flow out and beyond their sight. ]
no subject
They walk on. The forest shifts, mammoth trees giving way to slender, more gracefully branching species, and here and there are patches of high, waving grass.
They peer into an open place, a deep, wild valley, where they can see distant mountains, and green slopes, a ragged and rambling wood breaking here and there for spaces of blowing wheat or some other form of wild grain. The woods creep up into the hills and into the mountains, sending its roots deep into the rock; and as they grew closer to the valley, through the branches they see the glitter and twinkling light of a river or sea.
They emerge from the older forest. This is a marvelous and fertile land. Flowers of yellow and blue grew in profusion, caught this way and that in dancing gusts of color. The trees are olive trees and fruit trees, and have the low, twisted branches of trees from which food has been gathered for many generations. The sunlight pours down upon all.
They walk through tall grasses - the wild wheat perhaps - to the edge of the water, where it laps very gently without a tide, and is clear and shimmering as it shrinks back, exposing the extraordinary array of pebbles and stones.
He can see no end to this water either to the right to the left, but he can see the far bank and the rocky hills growing down towards it as if they were as alive as the roots of the straggling green trees.
The landscape behind them now was the same. The rocky hills, rising eventually to mountains, with miles upon miles of scalable slopes, copses of fruit trees, black, open mouths of caves.
Lucifer says nothing.
He is stricken and sad and staring down at the waters, and to the far horizon where the mountains come as if to close in the waters, only to be forced to let the waters flow out and beyond their sight. ]