The horizon separates the earth from the sky.
The horizon is the ancient delimitor of the range of communication.
Telegraph, radio, telephone, the web of web, all free us from the limits of the horizon.
If you’re moving, traveling, look ahead! The horizon is where you’re going.
There’s the horizontal.
The horizontal is the level, the stable, the flat, the surface easiest to balance on. Horizontal is a calm orientation. It’s the orientation of a good night’s sleep. It’s a place where stability is easy to attain. It’s where your pencil won’t roll off the table and the marble won’t roll under the bed.
Horizontal is your view of Woods Hole sidewalk graffiti.
Horizontal is clapboards reflecting on the side of McDevitt’s truck, in Buzzards Bay.
Horizontal is this view of the side of a matchbox. Worn through from the match scratching that started a winter’s worth of fires.
Horizontal is the first asparagus of spring, on the windowsill.
Horizontal is a foggy landscape.
Horizonal are the lines of the ridges in which the Nonamesset house nestles.
Horizontal are the flowers of the bleeding heart.
Horizontal is a Woods Hole seal.