local to local
I’ve come outside wrapped in a blanket on this last day of my first trip. The sun is not up yet, but there is a pink back wash of clouds behind me. The robins are up and some cows are bellowing in the distance, A few sandhill cranes call from way off, a rooster crows and a meadowlark sings. A couple of tuxedoed magpies strut around the car that we will soon get in to make our way back to Seattle. It will be a couple of weeks before I am in Two Dot again. There…the eastern horizon clouds are tinged with a 500-watt electric rim. It is much harder to hear the river now that the days of sun have shrunk it back into its banks. The fierceness of mosquitoes is not here so early in the morning. It is 5:45 and there are pink rays coming out from the horizon clouds and now the sun itself. I work very hard all winter for these few months of witnessed sunrises. And now…even my hands are turning pink in the light.