The Bisti Badlands Wilderness
"As the long months passed, I began to live on the slower planes and to observe more readily what passed for life there. I sauntered, I passed more and more slowly up and down the canyons in the dry baking heat of midsummer...I sat once on a high ridge that fell away before me into a waste of sand dunes. I sat through hours of a long afternoon. Finally an indistinct configuration caught my eye. It was a coiled rattlesnake, a big one. How long he had sat with me I do not know. We were both locked in the sleep-walking tempo of the earlier world, baking in the same high air and sunshine...It grew cold finally, for autumn was in the air, and the few things that lived thereabouts were sinking down into an even chillier scale of time...so thin and slow was the time of my pulse by then that I might have stayed on to drift still deeper into the lower cadences of the frost, or the crystalline life that glistens pebbles, or shines in a snowflake, or dreams in meteoric iron between the worlds."
The Star Thrower (p. 85)
Loren Eiseley
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