On one of our last mornings in Lima, we walked toward the sea cliffs. Just around a corner we came upon this burned out store. A security screen had been pulled down to protect the damaged interior from vandals, but fortunately the gaps in the screen were large enough to allow this picture to be taken.

Just past the delicate blowing grass and smashed remains of an old concrete building lay a field which had recently been the site of a grass fire. Although there were no trees nearby, this branch happened to be laying on the ground when the grass burned around it.

Curved vehicle tracks had at one time killed or stunted the grass. As a consequence, when that grass burned through this area, these curved tracks had been left behind.

The curved branches of a low bush had burned in a recent grass fire. Like arms reaching to embrace the charred stubble below, or like the wings of a bird forever frozen while gathering its young. Below it was scorched earth forming a wasteland.