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This episode of Drifting Notes was recorded after a jog along the east coast of Spain, where storm clouds gathered and the scent of wild rosemary clung to the air. A crumbling rock face on the trail caught my attention—not because it was striking, but because it made me wonder >> What would it be like to read this?
In this reflection, I explore the quiet poetry of geology—the ability to see deep time in cracks and layers, and how that perspective might shift how we move through the world. What if we saw not just the path beneath our feet, but the millions of years beneath that?
For those drawn to slow stories, elemental truths, and the beauty of what endures.
By LyssThis episode of Drifting Notes was recorded after a jog along the east coast of Spain, where storm clouds gathered and the scent of wild rosemary clung to the air. A crumbling rock face on the trail caught my attention—not because it was striking, but because it made me wonder >> What would it be like to read this?
In this reflection, I explore the quiet poetry of geology—the ability to see deep time in cracks and layers, and how that perspective might shift how we move through the world. What if we saw not just the path beneath our feet, but the millions of years beneath that?
For those drawn to slow stories, elemental truths, and the beauty of what endures.