Raven Mist

ravens in the misty mountains

In the foothills north of Picuris Peak

Technically speaking, not much of a photo—zoomed too much, tons of noise—but as impressionistic Saturday afternoon bird shots go, I like it. This is what wet mountains feel like. And for all my bitching about what’s after all a normal life in these parts, I’d rather look out on something like this than any sort of crop or field, man-made landmark, or typical back yard. The cat is out of the bag. The horse has left the barn. I’m in the almost wilderness and hanging on with all I’ve got.

Maybe I can write some more today. Have to up my game to stay here. Someone has to tell.

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