Bears

A girl picked berries in a meadow. We could see her off in the distance as we stood on our ridge. The hills of heaven, we thought, and other such things, as she moved slowly through the green. In another place we walked along a river. Cottonwoods grew wide and tall and spread branches across grassy fields.  We thought to…

Ancient

We are ancient, or think we are. Our tired knees and bruised heels tell us so as we climb from the valley floor to the lookout, the one perched high on the ridge above the valley. We spend an hour here before descending to the lake for camp. We make dinner and eat as the…

Finding The Trail

We circle as I point down at the trees.  There, I say, is the spot.  I see a creek and a patch of alder.  It is the first patch of alder beyond the bridge site. The opening I saw on the aerial photos back in the Forest Service office, the place on the map where…