Xeriscapes form the interiors of continents, while around the great tectonic plates of being, below the snow capped mountain peaks of being, beyond the bright fields and rocks of daily life, rests and flows the great ocean of void, the secret currents, the dark still waters. The land sometimes declines to swamps, wet abodes of life struggling in its thick green richness, to slums of anarch ease, to the salty reek of estuaries, to the brightly colored creatures living amidst the rushing waves of the tidal sweep. Beyond the last foreshore of the land of being, yet before the lightless waters of the deep unknown, there outspreads the long and gradual sinking of the continental shelf: reefs of pasts, shoals of futures, subconscious essences and forms, beings half remembered and half imagined, dreams, hopes, and fears, swarming multitudes of tasty fish, mermaids, sharks, and great green sea turtles, all floating and swimming in this extra reach of being as it sinks into the void.
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