Sky becomes a hovercraft of doom and I’m thinking, ‘now what?’ as I sit in the queue waiting to cross this quake-damaged bridge, shaken even more by the string of events that followed, reminding us of everything nature has to throw at us, leaving the bridge open to one-way traffic only, each determined repair challenged by storm after storm.
My gaze turns to just below the horizon where coming in low and bright from a bull pine by the river, bald eagle dives, a host of sparrows erupting skyward, and lunch eludes him as the flagger waves me on and I continue on my way.
Adrienne Veronese
This article appears in ‘A Symbolic Gesture’.