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The First Stream in Utah
77 wordsYou never loved the water more. You blink at the stream and feel that you are home, but even the cottonwoods are darker, and carry the bulk of firs. The stream is not so shaded that you can’t see your reflection and the naked mountain behind your head. This is your great river now; this is…
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The Magnificent Frigatebird
102 wordsI am the one who glides; where the air has become cold–that is what I call the sky, and I stay below it, among the shadow-birds, and at nightfall we slow, so the wind moves faster than us, a silken pulse that bristles our feathers, that carves away the shadow-birds until they are the spray…
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The Scent of Water
138 wordsThere is a certain wind that comes off the water; a wind that smells like rain as it’s drying; peach-colored mist on wood or pavement. Something, yes, remarkably dry, wrapped in all the smoothness of water, like roots beneath the earth, bundled and secret. This wind is new in its ancientness, like it may have lain undiscovered for thousands of years,…
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Dear Sky
135 wordsIn the sky we find deep water Much like the glazed place on the open ocean; you know your reflection is there but you cannot see it. We call it the wandering place those of us who know what will happen to our questions, how they won’t be answered but swallowed into carpets of light, and…
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