landescaping

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the only day this year i forgot my camera was beautiful. three of us in a small truck. the highway, then graded gravel, then a two track. park in dry grass and several hours on foot. dan found the perfect arrowhead on our way up, white red grey black chert, the eyelets somehow poked from tiny corners by a patient hand with all that sky. we climbed the burnt ridge, threading limestone bands, up to a medicine wheel. thousands of tiny rocks. maybe sixty feet in diameter. i walked around it several times, we all did, the october wind warm slapping my sleeves around my skinny arms. anyways a picture would never do.

i’d like to tell a story…
it will have to be my own.
my first story,
there is no place to start
except the present:
i asked myself
what is your story.
and then,
why do you need a story
i said
i never needed one before.
suppose something changes.

the land after flood