Drawing in my breath
Winding roads, expansive views
Raw, wild, magic
Layer, scrape, repeat
Drawing up a storm
On the first night of my first stay in northern California,
The earth shook. This is my winter home.
Millions of years ago, lava spewed and the seafloor slowly
moved east, sliding under our continent. Today, in the morning, I walk along
the ancient seabeds, gathering pretty green and red pebbles.
Fog blankets the golden hills, raw earth and alkali flats.
By night, the sky is lamp black, silent. Glittering.
There are no words.