Aspens & Redwoods
When you hold an unblemished coin of an aspen leaf in your palm, you know you’re holding the color of the actual sun in your hand.
It Died & Took the Rock With It
That’s the kind of dying that takes rock with it. The kind with time hanging around its neck as a glinting, ticking, silver charm.
Two Lunches and a Puffin
I unwrapped the red and white checkered paper and took a bite; the puffin surfaced. I swallowed; the jellyfish floated. Cobbled rocks rolled down the beach with outgoing waves and they made a song without melody - percussion only. The soft kind of clatter that smoothes edges over years instead of days.