I remember, Id been watg a hawk. There was an immense sky of the most i blue, blue of a bowl from which a child might just have drunk its m milk a behind a few whitish traces of cloud around the rim, and, imprinted on this sky, a single point of perfect stillness -- a hawk over the ruins. A hawk so still he seemed the tral node of the sky and the source of the heavy silence which fell down on the ruins like invisible rain; an immobile hawk so high above the turning world that I was sure he would see a half rotating hemisphere below him; and, over this hemisphere, scampered the plump vole or delicious bunny that did not know it had been pinioned already by the eyebeam of its feathered, taloned fate immi in the air. M, silence, a hawk, his prey and ruins. If I try very hard, I also add to this landscape with my little tent, my half-trad, piece by piece, all my naturalists equipment. . . I must have go to collect samples of the desolate flora of this empt……（内容加载失败！）
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