“When late in the afternoon I finally stumbled — sun-dazed, blear-eyed, parched as an old bacon rind — upon that blue stream which flows like a miraculous mirage down the floor of the canyon, I was too exhausted to pause and drink soberly from the bank. Dreamily, deliriously, I waded into the waist-deep water and fell on my face. Like a sponge I soaked up moisture through every pore, letting the current bear me along beneath a canopy of overhanging willow trees. I had no fear of drowning in the water — I intended to drink it all.”
- Ed Abbey, Desert Solitaire
Updated: Terry, in comments, informs me that I have unwittingly posted this on Abbey’s birthday.
I loves me some Ed Abbey. Thanks!
That’s a potent mix of metaphors served in a shot glass.
And you did not even know it was Ed Abbey’s birthday!
Terry
I’ve had this book on my shelf for a few years. I think it’s time I read it.
To Arvind’s great reference, that’s EXACTLY the potent metaphor mix I needed to be mindful today. Preferring to sip it, rocks, in highball glass as day connects with full moon though. Thanks for clarity you bring to life (sometimes without knowing it), as always.
I hate to be a stickler, but those are similes, not metaphors. “Parched AS an old bacon rind,” “flows LIKE a miraculous mirage,” “LIKE a sponge.” All employ ‘like’ and ‘as.’
You’re absolutely correct, Erica. But the metaphor to which I was referring was not contained in the quoted passage. It was the passage itself. The way Abbey approached the river is the way I approach the desert.