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Dominica
Tall-is-her-Body. Windswept, cloudhung, raindrenched, forestclad. Born of volcanic passions eons past, ardent memories simmer still within her soaring mountains. Knife-edge ridges softened by greenery, brushed by mists, cleft by torrents tumbling over boulders down down down to the sea. A boiling lake. An emerald pool. A sulfurous valley of blasting vents and shifting, scalded ground. Waterfalls hung with dripping ferns. Valleys perfumed by fields of white ginger. Deep nights alive with the cacophony of rain and frogsong. A dramatic, gentle Eden: Nature in voluptuous response to the lavish gift of water. |
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