world::girl

I've been imprisoned to my bed the past couple days. Yuck, sickness. Yay, a reason to do nothing.
Started a book I've been wanting to read: Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry. I really liked this bit...

The river was a barrier and yet a connection. I felt, a long time before I knew, that the river had shaped the land. The whole country leaned toward the river. All the streams flowed to it. It flowed by, and yet it stayed. It brought things and carried them away. I did not know where it flowed from or to, but I knew that it flowed a great distance through the opening it had made. The current told me that....it is hard to look at the river in its calm, just after daylight or just before dark, and believe that history has happened to it. The river, the river itself, leaves marks but bears none. It is only water flowing in a path that other water has worn.