view from a plane
This time, from high above the earth the angled sun catches a network of red tile roofs below, an intricate spidering of tiny twisted copper wires. Live and sparking with some ley energy, drawn above ground and urban. Tiny windows spilling light as transistor buildings pulse and fire, executing some ponderous calculation spanning centuries, tentatively laid out in medieval hamlets and mud tracks.
A tracery upgraded and hardened over time to the clock speed of modernity.
And somehow that distance of time, that distance from there to here, that leap to today – is misleading. The false confidence of hindsight, tracing that path, never illuminating how the layout will change tomorrow and tomorrow and the millennium after.
Our insight, slow as copper.