There and back again.
Wyoming gave itself to me. Faithfully, as always. The mountain was cool and green and beautiful, and for four full days I had nothing but sunshine and blue skies. Quiet like you can't find anywhere else.
Pronghorn were up high this year. Nine thousand feet. Kept running across the same pair when I went out hiking. We'd stop and stare at one another for minutes at a time. Saw no deer, no elk. No moose. Even so, had a perfect moment freeing a hummingbird that trapped itself in the cabin. Cupped it in both hands, took it to the door and away it went.
Spent an afternoon on Dylan's mountain, saying goodbye to my dad. Thinking. Spreading ashes for Patrick and Caley--a dress rehearsal, I suppose.
Read and re-read the four assigned stories from N. while up there. Critiqued them all. Then sat down and finished DeLillo's Zero K. DeLillo reminds me of Huxley, sometimes. But deeper, and with a sharper edge. His glimpses into the future are beautiful and terrifying. But his writing is perfectly in the moment. Funny, but charged. Enjoyed the hell out of what he did, and strongly suspect that, come winter, I'll be reading it again.
A wind came up one afternoon while I was on my way to the stream, and it blew so intently you could hear the pines groan. I've heard them creak before, but never groan. Came across a nest of mountain bluebird chicks on the same walk. Some kind soul had built a house for them and nailed it to the fence. First I've ever seen that up there. Usually, the only thing hanging from fences is what's already dead.
Had poached brookie last night up there. Seemed both fitting and right. Hard to say goodbye this time. Real hard. Was a long drive home filled with thinking and dreaming and remembering. Like to leave and do it all over again, if I could.
Learned my oldest of buddies had two emergency operations to arrest the damage of a blood clot to his liver. Removed part of his intestine. Last time he visited he had symptoms, and when he got home he was hospitalized. Operated on. Weird, but I was writing him into a story when I got the news. Talking about that very thing. His wife says he's okay, they'll release him soon. Fingers crossed it's true.
Fingers crossed it all works out.
Gonna go listen to the rain.
Long expected visitor flying in tonight.