poppies, irate old men, mud.
· 22 June 2004 ·

yes Phil good job this site is a gem. and what’s great is it can only get better and better

so so. Today I had my first Official Expedition of the Summer. (two days post-solstice) The outing was with my loveliest of lovelies friend Terezka- we went to Jednovice, a small village about a half hour away from the city I live in. It was her idea, Terezka always engineers these master plans for us that I have nothing to do with being that I am ignorant and American…? no. I have no excuse.

Anyways, after tramping several kilometers through the woods- which by the way- are glorious. Czech forests are the stuff that fairy tales are made upon. I am sure Rumpelstiltsken is still lurking about in them. So after going through the forest, traversing several poppy studded wheat fields, and being hailed by a little man driving a beaten up volvo who was so kind to alert us that his “two very large, mean looking dogs had ripped through his fence, and they were probably running around this area” (urrr)we finally made it to our destination. Terezka made me close my eyes and lead me, stumblingly, to what felt by the incline underneath my feet, to the edge of a cliffside.

And and and. And I opened my eyes, expecting to see something along the lines of a typical bucollic czech country side, complete with lush meadows and hillsides, whitewashed cottages, etc. etc. But instead I was standing above an enormous ivory..valley. Apparantly it had been used as a rock quarry a long time ago, and in time it had adapted into it’s own surreal environment.

The hillsides leading down to the basin were all deeply carved with water marks, they resembled the teeth of some enormous gaping animal. In the very bottom of the quarry there was a lake of most curious substance-the water was almost milk colored. That was the most interesting part of the whole place- the colors. Sandstone is remarkable in the way it has extremely varied hues. For instance. There would be planes of mud that would be a rich, pumpkiny orange, and when you plunged your hand into it, there would be layers beneath of deep purple, white, and rust. And the mud itself! I have never felt anything like it before. It was obscenely creamy and luscious. I’m sure you all know the rather orgasmic qualities of the substance between toes, fingers, etc.
Oh it is marvelous thing, glopping about all day in technicolor mud.

Written by Kate Clark