My mind hiccupping back to that sweet May smell of high snowpack melting, tickling down river beds – glacial shock to the underbelly of sun-stunned rock – I keep thinking didn’t it smell like rain to a thirsty traveler, but as usual there comes the question of honesty. Really I couldn’t have been thinking of […]
Filed under: Brenda Leifso, Writing the Land by akublik Date 30 September, 2007
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Driving the 22 north, noon sun and wind warm on the arm in the ears through the rolled down window kd lang’s Hymns rolling too through the long-grassed foothills and you beside me, the baby snoozing in the back seat, it’s so hard not to feel drowsily, contentedly alive, river water and campground dust in […]
Filed under: Brenda Leifso, Writing the Land by akublik Date 30 September, 2007
2 Comments »
