Took a drive up Emory Pass in the Black Range mountains (aka Sierra Diablo/Devil’s Mountains) to get some perspective, lift the elephant off my chest and to see the autumn colour.
While the area is not especially noted, or on the leaf peeper’s maps, the hillslopes were fiery.
Everywhere brilliant yellows captured attention. Mothership earth is flying the yellow flag of contagion.
Searching for the easy breath which I can often find by immersing myself in landscape behind the wheel, I did manage to shift the elephant on my chest. A little.
Looking (breathlessly) at flaring vistas of season’s dying embers, I am reminded that this week (October 18 to be exact) is the anniversary of my arrival on this continent. Twenty years a foreigner, making scratches on the prison wall. Counting as if limbo can be measured. Finding brief, solitary refuge in the Devil’s Mountain.
Recommended reading: Love in the time of cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
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