Enter into the warmth of a summer evening. The smell of milkweed hangs heavy in the air. Insects rise from the wet grass, wings outstretched. This yard sits between a squat elementary school, and a looming cliff about a hundred meters away. In the low hills and valleys of the area, the stark layered rock looks almost artificial- an ancient sea stack, uneroded by time.
The forests surrounding it are dark under the setting sun. The heat and humidity make the whole place appear as some strange vision. In the distance, though, the swish of cars can be heard on the highway. The crickets are chirping, and at the edge of the woods are a few lightning bugs. The low clouds are tinged pink with the edge of a sunset, but it is the sort of sunset that happens many times a year. Here, the cliff is the only strange thing. Here, it stands out as if part of a dream.
The back part of the cliff sinks into the surrounding hills. It looks far more approachable from that end.