Kristin and I hiked to one of the highest peaks on Killdeer Mountain tonight to watch the sunset. We saw a porcupine, raccoon, mule deer, and five whitetails. It seemed romantic, in spite of no romance, to be with a lovely lass on the longest day of this bright year, sprawled atop an alpine butte beneath the orange dusky ether.
We faced west until the dark cougar of evening swallowed our mason jar of melted sky-sherbet, and then we climbed down to the four-wheeler and went home.
3 comments:
why no romance anyway?
the timing isn't right, yet.
now that's poetry and a proper solstice salute. hats off, brother.
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