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…


I awoke to unravel.  The word.  The verb.  I don’t know why.  I listen to my heart beat. Listen to the seemingly endless thud, thud, thud. It pauses and flutters and then as if I hit refresh, continues to bump along. I guess many things would unravel should the beat fail. Unravel, as in fail….