The land is my love. I took a hike yesterday to meet them where the Sycamore leaves of Fall exist with the Spring sprouting of ferns in the same time and space with the prickly pear cactus, the wild lilac and Mojave yucca. The #Sycamore bark is warm and smooth, the live #Oak rough and callous. I smell the perfume of White #Sage and Laurel #Sumach. I ppl lace my hand on the rounded granite, listen to the dry winds rustle the leaves as it cools my skin, the sound akin to sand scraping on the bottom of a mountain stream and the crumpling of a wedding gown.

The land is my love. I took a hike yesterday to meet them where the Sycamore leaves of Fall exist with the Spring sprouting of ferns in the same time and space with the prickly pear cactus, the wild lilac and Mojave yucca. The #Sycamore bark is warm and smooth, the live #Oak rough and callous. I smell the perfume of White #Sage and Laurel #Sumach. I rest on the rounded granite, listen to the dry winds rustle the leaves as it cools my skin, the sound akin to sand scraping on the bottom of a mountain stream.