My modern-day radio;

I tuned into a Podcast on the Internet

And began listening to an audio short doc

The colors in the foreground of Shoendorf’s sanctuary rival the eye-dappled plumage of the Sri Lankan peacock’s fantail during courtship. The Bragg reflections of freakish avian barbules, reminiscent of the illusions created by the ablated rock flour that slips down precipitous Santa Lucia slopes to join with the angular pulses of sun beneath the Sea. Where dancing double helix refractions and iridescent aquamarines scream, and express themselves as alien greens amongst the brilliant Big Sur Buddha blues.