And if…
There is more. What exactly does more mean? Another langscape? Another landguage? It is nature to look at the fescue on the other side of the divide and wonder at its marvelous greeness, luscious velosity. But it is movement that is at issue, or rather displacement.
Roberto dell Griva sits by the gunwale of the shipwrecked vessel. He ponders the idea that what he sees before him is yesterday. When he sees a bird flying there, he knows it is not there now. He can’t swim. He knows that if he dives off the ship and swims toward the island, he will be swimming towards the day before. But, as mentioned, he cannot swim. Is this what it means to consider the verdosity of the fescue outside the limits of the enclosure? Of course it is. Get over it.
