The sugar cane blows fitfully, propelled by gusts of wind. Propelled around a fixed base, a single strand of sugar cane cannot leave on its own accord. Not that it would want to of course, that would just be suicide. Quite literally.
The hills have hair. The texture is something quite remarkably close to a swede carpet. This carpet supports a thriving community, enslaving the tastebuds of millions.
Orange brick constructions interspersed spotting the hills. Like bald spots in the head of hair that is actually a swede carpet. I know, business is confusing. I am glad I didn’t take econometrics.
Transition
The rumble of fast-moving tar under the wheels is mostly consistent. Black and crunchy, why did we start using sandpaper in the construction of our roadways?
The super glue factory passes by. So much industrious industry.
Oh yes, the road. Probably for added tire grip. In answer to the question that is. This increased grip causes increased wearing out as a side effect. I feel worn out, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Transition
Massive grey hotels stick out of the beach sand, there is a new monstrosity every few kilometres. The great grey infrastructure stands up out of a bygone era. Packed like sardines, humans like to get thrown around in the currents.
There are many great and sweeping bridges in the world, but none can truly measure up to those that straddle the southern coast’s roadways. The bridges are used by the patrons of the hotels, crossing the roadway perpendicularly, we see the vast lines of cars entering the foyers. Maybe the era is not gone.