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Wed, 01 Sep 2004
Bountiful Peak Sleep - Above Antelope Island
Arriving in a certain slant of sunlight, watching the angle change. What I brought: water, iBook, dog, dog food, sleeping bag, cot, etc.
Sitting here where I've sat for decades.
Smell of sage when Tika, my dog, walks through the brush, disturbing the plants. What I did not bring: Flavia. She is elsewhere.
One thing I brought I didn't a decade ago: reading glasses.
Watching the sun descend - carefully, avoiding its full reflection in the lake - a few clouds on the horizon.
What to describe: what's changed or what's now?
The air full of small flying bugs. About 30 minutes before sunset they start to dissipate. Tika prowling the hillside. Me listening to the silence. I give her water while I eat a chicken salad.
Quiet granite. Lichen, seemingly living on air. A breeze so slight it barely moves the sage blossoms. The movement increases ever so slightly with the sunset edge breeze.
Sage, lupine, indian paint brush - all in bloom.
To the east, deepening dark purple. Almost a dome over the western third of the sky. A dome of disappearing blue at the eastern edge - orange and red on the horizon.
Descending into dark. All merging into a single silence.
Until the waning gibbous moon rises behind me.
And except for civilization all lit up below.