Having observed these tree climbing goats while on a bus ride to Marrakech and then pondered the suitability of rubbing an argan oil lotion, peddled by a trader in the souk, into my skin, this comes as some relief to me, if not the goat. BY KELSEY KENNEDY SOME PLANTS RELY ON BIRDS or the…Read more Morocco’s Tree-Climbing Goats Prefer Spitting Out Seeds to Eating Them
Began writing this four days ago so now it’s lost in the Readers’ archives
His alarm woke him at 5.30am, bang on sun rise. He knew that as he’d checked the morning sunrise time the night before, via the online weather channel. In the past he would’ve called the meteorological office in Glasnevin and requested a specific time for dawn. This was it, the big day and he was not going to be late.
He got out of bed and turned on his en suite shower, before passing water and then flushing. Then the shower began. He washed carefully, attending to every detail, behind his ears, crotch, behind his knees, his bottom, between his toes and his fingernails. He even washed his hair, what was left of it. Thoughts of the day ahead flashed through his mind. This is it, twenty years waiting for this moment and now it has arrived.
Would they know? He was…
View original post 1,250 more words
AT TWO MINUTES BEFORE SIX IN THE MORNING, the steeple bells on the Lunzjata Parish Church chime ten times. I make a mental note: “What the…?” I am holed up in a 500-year-old house with stone walls two feet thick, tiny windows to contain the weather outside, an arched vaulted ceiling 25 feet high, and […]…Read more Badfish in Malta