hunting for a hike

Looking for a hike to hike on Tuesday. On Tuesdays, my days off, other than Saturdays, my other days off, and week trudges along with afternoon dimness into sparkling sunshine of evening on the day after the sun’s solstice, the hungover sun is muggy today, all muggy and hidden in a veil of clouds…the dendritic deltas of sun fingers, the Egyptian petroglyphs with the sunlight having fingertips, the sunkissed feeling of waking up somewhere outside, the dirt under the head with the red ants crawling on the rising and falling chest, a harmonica stuck in the throat, every inhale a discordant seventh but modulating to a tonic whole chord with an exhale, to the trees at least, this would happen if stuck in place, the little whiskey river in the watershed of the cascades where no water currently is. I am en route to find an insane desire to leap through the woods off trail and accidentally fall into a ravine, a forever ravine of 90 feet or more, and landing perfectly on my feet and continuing to leap and strut and jump from boulder to pine bough, and branches scratching the skin because of this as an unexplored trail, a greatly adorable geologist would gear me toward knowing the sierra cliffs from the cliffrose red rock undergrowth of a tall tree towering into a firepit while the campers slept on rocks out near the creekbed, the owl hoots, the mouse scurries out of fear, and the owl swoops, hunting by sitting somewhere he thinks there is food and letting his presence be known to his prey, who scurry in complete terror, looking for better ways to hide. There is no hiding aside from no longer scurrying.


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