Expectation is resentment waiting to happen. (John O'Donohue)
The newspaper says that the hills are so dry they will burn all summer and even from this moment on. But, in the new day sun, they look verdant and green. From this distance, they look verdant and green. Each blade of grass is turning from green to brown as this tapping, as the drip of a leaking faucet. Suddenly, suddenly it is dry and brown, tinder in the vastness of tinder.