In The Loupe

The silence of the place is unnerving. That echo you hear is the sound of blood pumping through your own temples. But if you are patient, you become gradually aware of the way juniper trees speak to the rock, how the wind whispers to the canyon walls and sunlight dances on yucca plants and sage. All the while Raven, the trickster, sores overhead with the rhythmic beauty of feathers on air.