Viewfinder

1. The floor looks like it’s covered with salt –delicate and light. The tiny mounds they form rise, quiver and fall with the weight of the grains dropping down from above. They seem to glint in the light, but only ever so slightly.
   
   
2. When I came over the hill, I wasn’t expecting to see what I saw. The forest was no longer green, but rather white. Reduced to a fine powder by the Gangon’s men and his magic. The valley was barren yet held a mocking glimmer of light.
   
   
3. Whatever it is, it looks porous. Disgustingly porous, as if insects have found and made tunnels and homes throughout the film of white to lay eggs –tiny foul eggs in the tiny foul holes. The surface looks as if wiggling heads of slimy larva will burst out at any moment in search for the warmth of the sun.