“Over vast halcyon fields rest the bones of the outworn - Bleached skeletons chewed on by the thick teeth of winter. The silhouettes that inhabited these basalt shells ran away in exodus, mummifying their refuse with idle spirals of lichen. And still, patches of chilled apricot sunrise crawl over the fractured stones like an endless carousel, east to west, rejoicing at the painless silence that resides in these walls now. These monuments, waiting to be stumbled across...”
— Words by Morgan Schultz
