Unformatted text preview: golden glitter of forest, its cliffs flushing pink in the sun; at night it was purple and shapeless, fading to black as the sun sank. Sometimes it would go into hiding, drawing the white clouds around itself and brooding in their depths for two or three days at a time. Every day I gazed at those great cliffs that guarded the way to the thick forest on its ridged back, and each day I grew more determined that I would go up there and see what it had to offer me. (Gerald Durrell)...
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- Spring '09
- N’da Ali, cloud-veiled shape brooding