Waterpocket Fold, Capitol Reef, UT
I think it is cold. But who would know. The air is completely still. Silence rings. Screams into my ears. There’s no escape. Longing for relief, I drop a pebble on the rock beside me. A small, loud sound. Unnaturally loud. Breaking the screaming. The ringing. Then nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but my breathing. And the rocks. The moon. The sky. Then a slight breeze. From some far-off place. It stings my face. Yes, it’s cold. The breeze brings with it the hollow sound of the night. And Darkness. Cold. Winter.
November 10th, 2013. A day in the life. The pen moves across the paper. Writing. Writing. Writing the great mystery. Recording the moment. Trying to keep up. Nothing but the facts. Just the truth. The TRUTH. But what is true? Certainly not the story.
The Truth is all around us. All the time. It’s happening at this moment. This very moment I am writing this. And at this very moment you are reading this.
Just listen. . .
_ _ _ _ _
There it is.
It’s all around us.
EVERYWHERE. . .
NOWHERE. . .
The breeze returns. Reminding me of the night. The desert. The cold moon. My warm sleeping bag and tent. I climb in and dream of deep twisting canyons. Lava rock. Petroglyphs. Cliff dwellings. Hidden water. Big horn sheep.
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