Saturday, December 15, 2018

Washed Up, Washed Out


The girls are helping-out with a Christmas party this weekend.  That isn't for me; I stayed away.  In the afternoon I took the opportunity to run back to Cottonwood Wash.  It was light when I began, but the sun sets early in December, especially in the canyons.  The nice thing, though, walking back to the truck in the growing dark, was the quiet.  The silence.  A powerful, pulsing silence.  Something that is difficult to find, but perhaps something that I love nearly as much as I love the girls.

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