Two young men look up to the sky to see a sun which had finally spun its way above the ridgeline of the foothills of the mountain they cannot see. The sun glows and turns in a silver ring that surrounds it. Up and above the conical firs, above the circles of spruce in the bowl of the valley the sun had reached its peak. It seems to hover there, a golden disc of fire, illuminating and blinding with its perpetual glow. The everlasting, noontide rays of the sun come spiraling down, absorbing direction and sense. It was hot.
Eddie: Whichever direction we go, we end up in the same place.
Jack: I’m not lost. Just be quiet.
Eddie: Well this may not be the best time, but I think I gotta tell you something else.
Jack: What?
Eddie: Evolution is a lie man.
Jack: The fuck are you talking about now?
Eddie: Should be the Theory of Revolution. Shit goes around, it doesn’t progress.
Jack: Will you be quiet? I’m trying to listen.
Eddie: You tell me to talk…you tell me to shut up.
They are lost. Going in circles. Of course, ‘going in circles’ implies that they aren’t going anywhere, which is not entirely true. Jack, the older of the two, had been trying to gather information, gain some bearings. Even after all this time, he refused to ‘be lost’ in the wilderness. The other, Eddie is his name, is handling their situation the same as had always handled stress: he talked. Not even an encounter with the infamous Whetlock bear who was said to rip men to shreds just to see them squirm could change that aspect of Eddie. He talked and talked and talked.
Jack: Just shuttup.
Eddie: Did you know that a turtle can live one hundred seventy-five years?
Jack: Listen. Who? Turtle Beducci? I doubt he’ll live to be forty.
Eddie: Man… I said a turtle. I’m being serious. I’m talking about a one hundred seventy-five year cycle here.
Jack: I know. But you remember that guy? Crazy mother, him.
Eddie: Unbelievable
Jack: That’s Turtle.
Eddie: What the hell man? T-U-R-T-L-E.
Jack: That’s nice, now spell tortoise.
Eddie: You’re an idiot. Did you know that? Besides, his nickname was T-U-R-D-L-E, because he used to shit his pants all the time in grade school.
Jack: No shit? How about shutting the fuck up?
Eddie: Yeah. Shit. I’m talking about a turtle.
Jack: Well, every time I see a turtle or hear the word turtle it reminds me of Beducci.
Eddie: Ah. Ok. Fine. Connections: whenever I look at a bicycle wheel I think about turtles.
Jack: I don’t want to talk about turtles and I absolutely do not want to talk about cycles.
Since the accident this morning, carrying around their bicycles had become more than burdensome. Running with a bicycle wasn’t an option, so when they had to run, they had to backtrack for the cycles. If only that path had not disappeared in the undergrowth. If only they had a compass…there’s a thought that would return later and often. There is the sun. Still. The still sun. That’s of no use. They continue on. What else can they do?
Eddie: A turtle’s life is one big perpetual cycle. Did you know that?
Jack: My life is one big circle. I get up, I eat, I shit, I work, I eat some more, I shit some more…
Eddie: I’m talking about cycles. Revolutions. Thirty-six chromosomes.
Jack: I think you are the only person alive that can confuse a turtle with a bicycle wheel.
Eddie: What? A bicycle wheel has thirty-six spokes.
Jack: Thirty-five.
Eddie: Don’t you see the connection?
Jack: Will you just shut up? It’s not important.
Eddie: God, how old are you? You can’t live your whole life without knowing something important before you die. And you definitely have to be able to decipher between shit that is important and the shit that isn’t!
Jack: I’m trying to hear…do you really want to die out here?
Jack really thought he heard water. But this forest brims with all sorts of sounds. There are two creeks…certainly somewhere nearby. Every once in a whle the rush of water sends an echo over the hills. Figuring out where it came from is proving difficult for Jack. There are birds of all kinds making all kinds of ruckus. There are other bustling creatures in the bushes and undergrowth. A distant plane was humming beyond and over the mountain. Twigs snap, limbs fall in the shadows, a bumblebee zips here and there across the path the two men are making. The day lingered. The sounds mingled and clanged in the heat like a symphony tuning before a concert. Eddie has no interest in the auditions of the forest. He was mumbling something under his breath, making noises of his own.
Eddie: A turtle has thirty-six chromosomes. Are you listening to me?
Jack: I don’t know.
Eddie: How many chromosomes does a turtle have?
Jack: Listen! That’s our salvation, man!
Eddie: I give up.
Jack: Don’t you know what that is?
Eddie: No! And I don’t care what you hear as long as it’s not that goddamned bear.
Jack: The Whetlock bear again…the bear is history. Let it go.
Eddie: So says you. It’s probably the Whetlock bear drinking the blood of his latest victim…that’s what you hear.
Jack: You don’t hear it? The creek? That’s a creek.
Eddie: Ok…I don’t hear it.
Jack: Salmon Creek runs parallel to highway twenty-six, man! On the south side!
Jack was trying very hard to figure out where they might be. Eddie wasn’t helping.
Eddie: Whatever, we’re still lost. That’s not gonna help us. We’re still screwed. It’s going to get freezing tonight. If the cold don’t kill us, the bear will.
Jack: That must be Salmon Creek. I can hear it. Eddie, the bear isn’t here.
Eddie: Yeah right. The Whetlock bear has been hunting us all day. Guarantee it.
Jack: You’re hopeless. Listen.
Eddie: You’re goddamned right I am! I’m sick of this shit!
Jack: Dude, chill. Chromosomes. Ok? We need to keep you talking or you’re gonna go wacky.
Eddie: No we don’t.
Jack: Yes we do.
Eddie: We don’t need to talk about anything. You don’t want to hear it anyway.
Jack: Let’s just keep moving. Just try to keep a conversation going. I won’t stop you.
Eddie: Ok, fine. So can we can go straight back from right here? This very spot?
Now, here’s the trick. The answer is ‘yes’. Yes, they could go straight back from any point. But it won’t lead them out of the circular predicament they have created for themselves. At any point, we can go back, but the story is always the same. Always.
Jack: Yes.
Eddie: Yeah? Are you sure?
Jack: I am sure. We can go back from any point here.
Eddie: You better be posi-fucking-tively sure.
Jack: Well…I’m pretty sure.
Eddie: Don’t say you’re ‘pretty’ sure! You’re half-assed planning is what got us into this shit-hole mess in the first place!
Jack: Instead of doing that, why don’t you give me a valid suggestion? I’m pretty sure the creek is just over that ridge there.
Eddie: Yeah, I’m gonna scream! I can’t believe you said that! I’m screaming now. And loud!
Jack: That’s right. Yell. That’ll help. Real great. I should just leave you here for that stupid bear.
Eddie isn’t happy. The bear is nowhere to be seen. But the forest moves still. Eddie screams and the forest replies.
Eddie: I loved my poor bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Jack: The bike is toast, man. Come on, get a grip and let’s get up that ridge over there, ok?
Eddie: I really am going to get you killed…I’m going to get myself killed! I don’t think I can handle this. Twelve hundred bucks I paid for that bike!
Jack: That’s definitely not helpful. Talk about something. Turdle Beducci, remember? Or whatever, anything. Talk about anything.
Eddie: Why does this shit happen to me? I have to stop. Just leave me here to die.
Eddie’s friend would never leave him there to die. They had been friends since high school. He may have thought about leaving Eddie, just for a few minutes, to scope things out, but knew that would never work. And now he noticed that something was moving in the shadows along the ridgeline again.
Jack: Eddie just keep moving, bro. We got to keep moving or we’re going to die.
Eddie: Fuck! F-uuuuuuuuuu-ck! Fuck bicycles! Fuck bears and turtles and trees and fuck all this fuckity fucked-up fuck fuck fuckity fuck!
Jack: Eddie. Pay attention. Eddie…
Eddie: Oh my God! Oh my God!
Jack: Eddie! Keep it together!
Eddie: What?!
Jack: Is that the bear you were talking about?
And there it was. The Whetlock bear of local legend, slayer of man and beast. Widow-maker. Death-bringer. The fangs of Satan gleaming, dripping with vile. His coat, a mane of pure anger. Eyes, circular portals to the End of all things.
Eddie: Oh…my…God.
Jack: C’mon! Run!
What could they do? Run.
Eddie: You gotta be fucking kidding me!
Jack: Holy shit! That’s…the biggest damn bear…Behind those rocks! Go! Go! Go!
Eddie: Oh shit!
Jack: Did you see that? What is that thing?!
The illusion of safety. The forest, as serene and tranquil, as taken advantage…it is as it is. Back in the city, we know to look for predation. We think we know who is hunting and who is hunted. The wilderness masks. The sun waxes. The forest lies.
Eddie: Is that him?
Jack: Ok. Stop, stop, stop. Stop here.
Eddie: I don’t see him anywhere!
Jack: I don’t think he chased us, I think our paths crossed coincidentally.
Eddie: I hope you’re right. You’re never right.
Jack: Let’s just get up on that mound over there for a few minutes. I think it’s safe.
Eddie: Do you see him?
Jack: I think I can sense him. But I can’t make him out if he’s back there.
Eddie: You don’t see him?
Jack: I don’t know. Shh!
Eddie: You see? That’s what I’m talking about.
Jack: He might still be around here. Shut the fuck up!
Eddie: Grizzly fuckin Adams man.
Jack: Ok, that’s enough, man. Serious. Let me regain my bearings.
Jack knows they have to keep moving. But the feeling of recurrence overwhelms him. This rock, this ridge, the mound over there…all familiar. Eddie notices it too. Eddie is confused. This way is that and that, this. Nothing makes sense. The sun never moves from its zenith. It simply beams. The flooding lamp of some celestial interrogator.
Eddie: Well, this is exactly what I was talking about. We came up here on twelve-hundred dollar mountain bikes and now were being chased by Grizzly Adams or…whatever!
Jack: Grizzly Adams was the guy. The bears name was Ben, or something like that.
Eddie: No it wasn’t.
Jack: Was that show even on when you were a kid?
Eddie: Your’re the damned T.V. junkie. I’ve never even seen the stupid show.
Jack: The bear’s name wasn’t Grizzly Adams.
Eddie: Whatever you say.
Jack: Ok. Just hunker down here for a minute or two. Catch your breath, keep your eyes open.
They make their way to the feigned safety of an outcropping. Covered with moss and hanging grasses. They hide themselves. They know that won’t help. They’ll have to move and do this again and again.
Eddie: Grizzly fuckin’ Adams, man.
Jack: The Whetlock bear. Unbelievable.
Eddie: Jesus, that’s one big bear. Shit! Look!
Jack: What is it? I don’t see!
Eddie: Down there. In the gulch! It’s moving!
Jack: Ok listen, there’s no bear up here. Calm down. He’s out there, but he’s not right here, right now. Ok? Let’s keep it that way and keep moving.
Eddie: You ever seen a bear that big?
Jack: Well, I have now.
Eddie: Do you ever think about dying?
Jack: You’re really asking for it. You need to shuttup.
Eddie hunches down like a school boy digging for worms. He mumbles to himself a string of psuedo decipherable words that soon become a silent song.
Eddie: I love my bicycle.
Jack: Loved.
Eddie: I love my bicycle.
Jack: Loved.
Eddie: I love my bicycle.
Jack: God, you’ve finally lost it.
Jack starts walking westward toward the mountain they can not see through the trees. Eddie, lost in thought, looks up to see that Jack is almost out of sight and runs to catch up.
Eddie: Bicycle wheels have thirty-six spokes.
Jack: Yes, you’re an overflowing fountain of information.
Eddie: I’m right, aren’t I?
Jack: Right about what?
Eddie: We aren’t making it out of here. We’re going in circles. We’re turtles. I was right.
Jack: Oh for fucks sake…What the hell do you know about turtles anyway?
Eddie: Turtles have thirty-six chromosomes.
Jack: Yeah, and they’re complete idiots.
Jack stops at a small crick. Eddie kneels down and laps up some water like a dog. Jack cups his hands to drink. They continue on, talking and walking, but looking this way and that for any sign of danger.
Eddie: The Whetlock bear has hunted these woods for centuries, that’s what they say.
Jack: Ridiculous. What, that stupid bear? He’s a bear you’re a human. Chromosomes, man.
Eddie: We can’t outrun him forever. It’s the tortoise and the hare.
Jack: Oh my God. Does it ever end with you?
Eddie: Well, this might not be the best time to mention, but…
Jack: We aint lost. Shut up about it.
Eddie: We’re going in circles man.
Jack: Look, we aren’t lost and not every little thing in life is a circle for fuck’s sake.
Eddie: Name one that isn’t.
Jack: Stories have a very distinct beginning, middle and end. Right? They aren’t circular.
Eddie: Oh, really? Just answer me this then what if the end of the story is the beginning and the beginning is the end?
Jack: Stories have a very distinct beginning middle and end. Right? They aren’t circular.
Eddie: Name one that isn’t.
Jack: Look, we aren’t lost and not every little thing in life is a circle for fuck’s sake.
Eddie: We’re going in circles man.
Jack: We aint lost. Shut up about it.
Eddie: Well, this might not be the best time to mention, but…
Jack: Oh my God does it ever end with you?
Eddie: We can’t outrun him forever. It’s the tortoise and the hare.
Jack: Ridiculous. What, that stupid bear? He’s a bear you’re a human. Chromosomes, man.
Eddie: The Whetlock bear has hunted these woods for centuries, that’s what they say.
Jack stops at a small crick. Eddie kneels down and laps up some water like a dog. Jack cups his hands to drink. They continue on, talking and walking, but looking this way and that for any sign of danger.
Jack: Yeah, and they’re complete idiots.
Eddie: Turtles have thirty-six chromosomes.
Jack: Oh for fucks sake…What the hell do you know about turtles anyway?
Eddie: We aren’t making it out of here. We’re going in circles. We’re turtles. I was right.
Jack: Right about what?
Eddie: I’m right aren’t I?
Jack: Yes, you’re an overflowing fountain of information.
Eddie: Bicycle wheels have thirty-six spokes.
Jack starts walking westward toward the mountain they can not see through the trees. Eddie, lost in thought, looks up to see that Jack is almost out of sight and runs to catch up.
Jack: God you’ve finally lost it.
Eddie: I love my bicycle.
Jack: Loved.
Eddie: I love my bicycle.
Jack: Loved.
Eddie: I love my bicycle.
Eddie hunches down like a school boy digging for worms. He mumbles to himself a string of psuedo decipherable words that soon become a silent song.
Jack: You’re really asking for it. You need to shuttup.
Eddie: Do you ever think about dying?
Jack: Well, I have now.
Eddie: You ever seen a bear that big?
Jack: Ok listen, there’s no bear up here. Calm down. He’s out there. But he’s not right here, right now. Ok? Let’s keep it that way and keep moving.
Eddie: Down there! In the gulch! It’s moving!
Jack: What is it? I don’t see!
Eddie: Jesus, that’s one big bear. Shit! Look!
Jack: The Whetlock bear. Unbelievable!
Eddie: Grizzly fuckin’ Adams, man.
They make their way to the feigned safety of an outcropping covered with moss and hanging grasses. They hide themselves. They know it won’t help. They’ll have to move and do this again and again.
Jack: Ok. Just hunker down here for a minute or two. Catch your breath, keep your eyes open.
Eddie: Whatever you say.
Jack: The bear’s name wasn’t Grizzly Adams.
Eddie: You’re the damned T.V. junkie. I’ve never even seen the stupid show.
Jack: Was that show even on when you were a kid?
Eddie: No it wasn’t.
Jack: Grizzly Adams was the guy. The bears name was Ben, or something like that.
Eddie: Well, this is exactly what I was talking about. We came up here on twelve-hundred dollar mountain bikes and now were being chased by Grizzly Adams…or whatever.
Jack knows they have to keep moving. But the feeling of recurrence overwhelms him. This rock, this ridge, the mound over there…all familiar. Eddie notices it too. Eddie is confused. This way is that and that, this. Nothing makes sense. The sun never moves from its zenith. It simply beams. The flooding lamp of some celestial interrogator.
Jack: Ok that’s enough man. Serious. Let me regain my bearings.
Eddie: Grizzly fuckin’ Adams, man.
Jack: He might still be around here. Shut the fuck up.
Eddie: You see? That’s what I’m talking about.
Jack: I don’t know. Shh!
Eddie: You don’t see him?
Jack: I think I can sense him. But I can’t make him out if he’s back there.
Eddie: Do you see him?
Jack: Let’s just get up on that mound over there for a few minutes. I think it’s safe.
Eddie: I hope you’re right. You’re never right.
Jack: I don’t think he chased us, I think our paths crossed coincidentally.
Eddie: I don’t see him anywhere!
Jack: Ok. Stop, stop, stop. Stop here.
Eddie: Is that him?
The illusion of safety. The forest, as serene and tranquil, as taken advantage of…it is as it is. Back in the city, we know to look for predation. We think we know who is hunting and who is hunted. The wilderness masks. The sun waxes. The forest lies.
Jack: Did you see that? What is that thing?!
Eddie: Oh shit!
Jack: Holy shit! That’s…the biggest damn bear…Behind those rocks! Go! Go! Go!
Eddie: You gotta be fucking kidding me!
What else could they do? Run.
Jack: C’mon! Run!
Eddie: Oh…my …God.
And there it is. The Whetlock bear of local legend, slayer of man and beast. Widow-maker. Death-bringer. The fangs of Satan gleaming, dripping with vile. His coat, a mane of pure anger. Eyes, circular portals to the End of all things.
Jack: Is that the bear you were talking about?
Eddie: What?!
Jack: Eddie! Keep it together!
Eddie: Oh my God! Oh my God!
Jack: Eddie. Pay attention. Eddie…
Eddie: Fuck! F-uuuuuuuuuu-ck! Fuck bicycles! Fuck bears and turtles and tress and fuck all this fuckity fucked-up fuck fuck fuckity fuck!
Jack: Eddie just keep moving, bro. We got to keep moving or we’re going to die.
Jack would never leave Eddie there to die. They had been friends since high school. He may have thought about leaving Eddie, just for a few minutes, to scope things out, but knew that would never work. And now he noticed that something was moving in the shadows along the ridgeline again. Eddie was frantic.
Eddie: Why does this shit happen to me? I have to stop. Just leave me here to die.
Jack: That’s definitely not helpful.. Talk about something, Eddie. Turdle Beducci, remember? Or whatever, anything. Keep walking. Talk about anything.
Eddie: I really am going to get you killed…I’m going to get myself killed! I don’t think I can handle this. Twelve hundred bucks I paid for that bike!
Jack: The bike is toast, man. Come on, get a grip and let’s get up that ridge over there, ok?
Eddie: I loved my poor bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Eddie isn’t happy. The bear is nowhere to be seen. But the forest moves still. Eddie screams and the forest replies.
Jack: That’s right. Yell. That’ll help. Real great. I should just leave you here for that stupid bear.
Eddie: Yeah, I’m gonna scream! I can’t believe you said that! I’m screaming now. And loud!
Jack: Instead of doing that, why don’t you give me a valid suggestion? I’m pretty sure the creek is just over that ridge there.
Eddie: Don’t say you’re ‘pretty’ sure! You’re half-assed planning is what got us into this shit-hole mess in the first place!
Jack: Well…I’m pretty sure.
Eddie: You better be posi-fucking-tively sure!
Jack: I am sure. We can go back from any point here.
Eddie: Yeah? Are you sure?
Jack: Yes.
Now, here’s the trick. The answer is ‘yes’. Yes, they could go straight back from any point. But it won’t lead them out of the circular predicament they have created for themselves. At any point, we can go back, but the story is always the same. Always.
Eddie: Ok, Fine. So can we go straight back from right here? This very spot?
Jack: Let’s just keep moving. Just try to keep a conversation going. I won’t stop you.
Eddie: We don’t need to talk about anything. You don’t want to hear it anyway.
Jack: Yes we do.
Eddie: No we don’t.
Jack: Dude, chill. Chromosomes. Ok? We need to keep you talking or you’re gonna go wacky.
Eddie: You’re goddamned right I am! I’m sick of this shit!
Jack: You’re hopeless. Listen.
Eddie: Yeah right. The Whetlock bear has been hunting us all day. Guarantee it.
Jack: That must be Salmon Creek. I can hear it. Eddie, the bear isn’t here.
Eddie: Whatever, we’re still lost. That’s not gonna help us. We’re still screwed. It’s going to get freezing tonight. If the cold don’t kill us, the bear will.
Jack was trying very hard to figure out where they might be. Eddie wasn’t helping.
Jack: Salmon Creek runs parallel to highway twenty-six, man! On the south side!
Eddie: Ok…I don’t hear it.
Jack: You don’t hear it? The creek? That’s a creek.
Eddie: So says you. It’s probably the Whetlock bear drinking the blood of his latest victim…that’s what you hear.
Jack: The Whetlock bear again…the bear is history. Let it go.
Eddie: No! And I don’t care what you hear as long as it’s not the goddamned bear!
Jack: Don’t you know what that is?
Eddie: I give up.
Jack: Listen! That’s our salvation, man!
Eddie: How many chromosomes does a turtle have?
Jack: I don’t know.
Eddie: A turtle has thirty-six chromosomes. Are you listening to me?
Jack really thought he heard water. But this forest brims with all sorts of sounds. There are two creeks…certainly somewhere nearby. Every once in a whle the rush of water sends an echo over the hills. Figuring out where it came from is proving difficult for Jack. There are birds of all kinds making all kinds of ruckus. There are other bustling creatures in the bushes and undergrowth. A distant plane was humming beyond and over the mountain. Twigs snap, limbs fall in the shadows, a bumblee zips here and there across the path the two men are making. The day lingered. The sounds mingled and clanged in the heat like a symphony tuning before a concert. Eddie has no interest in the auditions of the forest. He was mumbling something under his breath, making noises of his own.
Jack: I’m trying to hear…do you really want to die out here?
Eddie: God, how old are you? You can’t live your whole life without knowing something important before you die. And you definitely have to be able to decipher between shit that is important and the shit that isn’t!
Jack: Will you just shut up? It’s not important.
Eddie: Don’t you see the connection?
Jack: Thirty-five.
Eddie: What? A bicycle has thirty-six spokes.
Jack: I think you’re the only person alive that can confuse a turtle with a bicycle wheel.
Eddie: I’m talking about cycles. Revolutions. Thirty-six chromosomes.
Jack: My life is one big circle. I get up, I eat, I shit, I work, I eat some more, I shit some more…
Eddie: A turtle’s life is a perpetual cycle. Did you know that?
Since the accident this morning, carrying around their bicycles had become more than burdensome. Running with a bicycle wasn’t an option, so when they had to run, they had to backtrack for the cycles. If only that path had not disappeared in the undergrowth. If only they had a compass…there’s a thought that would return later and often. There is the sun. Still. The still sun. That’s of no use. They continue on. What else can they do?
Jack: I don’t want to talk about turtles and I absolutely do not want to talk about cycles.
Eddie: Ah Ok. Fine. Connections: whenever I look at a bicycle wheel I think about turtles.
Jack: Well, every time I see a turtle or hear the word turtle it reminds me of Beducci.
Eddie: Yeah. Shit. I’m talking about a turtle.
Jack: No shit? How about shutting the fuck up?
Eddie: You’re an idiot. Did you know that? Besides, his nickname was T-U-R-D-L-E, because he used to shit his pants all the time in grade school. T-U-R-D-L-E.
Jack: That’s nice, now spell tortoise.
Eddie: What the hell man? T-U-R-T-L-E.
Jack: That’s turtle.
Eddie: Unbelievable.
Jack: I know. But you remember that guy? Crazy mother, him.
Eddie: Man…I said a turtle. I’m being serious. I’m talking about a one hundred seventy-five year cycle here.
Jack: Listen. Who? Turtle Beducci? I doubt he’ll live to be forty.
Eddie: Did you know that a turtle can live one hundred seventy-five years.
Jack: Just shut up.
They were lost. Again. Going in circles…or so they thought. Of course, ‘going in circles’ implies that they weren’t going anywhere, which is not entirely true. Jack had been trying to gather information they whole way, even with Eddie constantly jabbering. Jack refused to ‘be lost’ in the wilderness. The other, Eddie was his name, was handling their situation the same as he had always handled stress. He talked. Not even an encounter with the infamous Whetlock bear who was said to rip men to shreds just to see them squirm could change that aspect of Eddie. He talked and talked and talked.
Eddie: You tell me to talk…you tell me to shut up.
Jack: Will you be quiet? Right now I’m trying to listen.
Eddie: Should be the Theory of Revolution. Shit goes around, it doesn’t progress.
Jack: The fuck are you talking about now?
Eddie: Evolution is a lie, man.
Jack: What?
Eddie: Well this may not be the best time, but I think I gotta tell you something else…
Jack: I’m not lost. Just be quiet.
Eddie: Whichever direction we go, we end up in the same place.
Two young men look up to the sky to see a sun which had finally spun its way above the ridgeline of the foothills of the mountain they cannot see. The sun glows and turns in a silver ring that surrounds it. Up and above the conical firs, above the circles of spruce in the bowl of the valley the sun had reached its peak. It seems to hover there, a golden disc of fire, illuminating and blinding with its perpetual glow. The everlasting, noontide rays of the sun come spiraling down, absorbing direction and sense.
It was hot.
Copyright 2008, The Liber Review
Portland Oregon
