Some places simply sing. The air around them vibrates with energy not just of the present, but from the last hundred years. Cotton candy clouds on the brightest blue background, floating over the world so carefree and fresh. Scrubby brushes and waving grasses; this place simply hums with a perseverant kind of living. There’s still names here, on Independence Rock, and I’d just like to think that all the people who passed this rock and wrote their names on it’s face, were able to feel it too.

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