Between Man and Earth

Where the land is unyielding, man must make a way. From the sky, what I see is a series of games played between the ambitious, planning man and the strong, forceful earth on which that man wishes to stand. In many parts, man's decisiveness and straight lines have left their mark. For miles you can see the grids and patterned portions of earth that have felt the sting of bulldozers, axes, drills. But for much more of the land, the majority of the earth has remained unyielding in its power and might, man has submitted or simply said, "No."

Near deep canyons, winding rivers, untouchable mountain tops there are signs of man's submission. The paved roads become few and, in their presence, their shapes mirror the terrain instead of the straight paths found in the dreams of planning men. The founders of towns submit to the dry, arid deserts in building their future homes around whatever water may be found. Near every patch of green among the miles of sand stands a man who has said with determination that he has won this bit.

But it is a mighty game, a constant and changing battle between the unchanging earth and dreaming man. That game reminds man of one thing, if not many: you are quite small. Can you conquer bit by bit? Yes. Can you submit in one portion to succeed in the greater game? Of course. But, are you the biggest of creation? Are you the size of a mountain? Are you as daunting in greatness as an untamed ravine? Could you be?