Once / a landscape
Once there were winds of change that never ceased. You could catch hold of them blowing up in the air. Either conducted by or conducting the flow. Erupting scents of leaf and grass and pollen and floral-sweep in your hair. Fallen from each breeze, wafting from creaks of woods. On the backs of the winds of change were tenacious creatures that were becoming in their transforming. Into a new thing entirely. Never to turn back. Interbeing along the horizon like a chimera is like a landscape.
— Adam Powers