Chukar Fugue

It's this. I spent most of today's hike weaving together phrases of future, present, and past memory fragments: stressing to keep up with the dogs through backlit bunchgrass on 45-degree slopes toward the water punctuated by dried cattle hoove divots; no concept of my identity but just a pursuit; no concept of the fact that …

Finally!

Opening weekend came and went, and we're still vibrating from it. We camped in Oxbow the night before opening day, greeted by a big sow bear as soon as we beached the boat. We waited a while, not sure if we should look for another cove, and then two cinnamon cubs appeared, and the train …