Green Lake Cake Green Lake did not strike me as particularly green, or at least not when we were there. Perhaps earlier in the year green graces the lake’s banks and waters, yet for us it was in mourning of … Continue reading
Touch: The lake is dry, but moist just beneath, and in the middle the mud is deep. On top of the mud is a layer of white powdery stuff, the consistency powdered sugar perhaps, or maybe salt mixed with ash. … Continue reading
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Imagine cliffs to every side, canyon like in their complexity of form, vast in their expanse, yet vaster still is the expanse between them. Grassland winds endlessly around the cliffs, dotted with boulders, most small yet some large, towering over … Continue reading
Touch: Getting down into the pothole the rocks shift beneath my feet. My skin feels dry against damp stone. Hot against it’s coldness. The rock is rough, solid, pockmarked with lichen. Moss grows here as well, soft and refreshing against … Continue reading
On the butte called Umatilla rock was a saddle that was low enough to cross on foot. On either side, lay a valley, one with a full lake and the other with a dry one. The earth was cool on … Continue reading
Touch: By the time I write this it’s wet. Small raindrops sprinkle expectantly on my hands. The stone is rough and scratchy where I touch. The stone cracked and unstable. The grass is smooth and my feet slip slightly against … Continue reading
