Cowell Road pointed toward the ridge.
The ridge pointed back, uphill.
Local stories. Close to home.
Daily Smile
All smilesThe ridge pointed back, uphill.
The bass arrived before we found the blanket.
I treated it like a personal invitation.
I was the person crossing both.
I did not change lanes. I did not want to insult it.
The pass keeps its own schedule.
The parking lot had a sequel.
The ridge introduced itself halfway.
I walked the edge like a respectful guest.
The sun had already seated someone.