The dark profile of a mysterious land, a black or white horizon, perhaps where the ancestors of coal walk. The sky is dark with the residue of the burned ground. The ground is made of dust that has fallen from the sky and been packed, by the pacing of invisible souls, into a hard coal rock. Trapped dogs and dinosaurs bark from air-filled hollows under the horizon, as the invisible substance painfully penetrates them, replacing their bones with blackened stone. Think of this as a night view of La Brea Tarpits, pictures still being snapped by an automatic camera pointing facedown towards the ground, left there by an owner sucked into the oil a million years ago yesterday.