I sit with my back to a stony buttress with no easy path around. My dogs and I have hiked to either side but only soft loose slots of crumbling sandstone and bentonite lead upward. So I sit listening to the low rumble of industry emitting from the fertile corridor of Grand Junction, startled by the occasional pop of a marksman unseen around the bend. The breeze is still damp and cool as the sun slowly eats away at my shade. It flickers in the corner of my left eye, rising ever higher promising a day of light and warmth.
Time to move.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone