I’m at Waipio beach at dawn, which is so phenomenal, and the route by which we came is so astounding, that instead of being tempted to go full blown literati about it, I can’t stop smiling as I imagine the breathless heroics a real literati would perform right now. Which is a reflex I should just get over, so I can describe this scene, because to fail to do so would be nearly criminal.
In fact, what would Tanith Lee say about all this? Let me try to channel her. She might say something like:
Seven wild horses picked their way across the river in single file, up to their necks in freshwater. The river grows much shallower just forty meters down, where it flattens and pours into the ocean; but the ocean pours back, in muscular surges, which the horses seem to prefer to avoid. Perfectly amenable to the…
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