The Writer's Cramp 11/22/21 W/C 310
The field was yellow, as far as I could see. In this place, the wildflowers are balsam root. I set foot on the path that led to the pass. Yellow led to pink and red. In this meadow, fireweed spread over the ground. A little further took me past purple lupine flowers that reminded me of the rocket.
This day of hiking brought me a feast for the eyes. It also brought reset to all my systems. Once the process finished, it was time for another day. Retracing steps from yesterday, I made the way down the mountain.
Down to the sagebrush flat I saw bitterroot, pasque flowers, and small flowers on the prickly pear cacti. Sage bloomed, filled the air with their sacred scent. No creatures roamed the empty flat. Wind gusts moved tumbleweed down the path.
Again I waited out the reset. I found shade at the side of a glacial boulder. Once the reset finished, the path led to the river.
A string of geese swam the rushing water with dancing trout. I found a seat on water sculpted rocks to watch the wildlife parade. Soon I noticed deer sipping at the river’s edge, then marmots in the riverbank whistled danger.
Another day with a feast for the eyes, as well as the ear and noses. I love this part of earth. It is so unlike anything else in the universe. But that time has come.
“Are you ready to go?” The voice came through my dreaming. It sounded like the captain.
I turned to gaze one more time on my surroundings. The entire time is now recorded so I can revisit this place again and again.
“I think we are ready. I’m at the water.”
We journeyed back home without incident. My job is to now recruit visitors to earth. It should be an easy sell.