What else can one do, when a large reclusive underground surprise is about to embark upon them?
Driving along a wonderful winding crest, whose smooth camouflage lifts a tire and its occupants inside.
Some would like to flee, while others simply become so bewildered — they freeze into place.
It all began so long ago, before everything else. Earlier than the pyramids, when the twilight and dawn intermingled and the sun and moon jockeyed for their position.
I do expect rocks have history --- only known to themselves. The type of mystery secured forever, inwards. Secrets! Oh, if only mountains could talk.
