Out on a ledge


Hash Rock is 5755’ high, part of the core of an ancient volcano. I eased myself out to the edge of the next cliff over to paint it. I’m not one for heights, but I’ve got a son and a cousin who climb these things, so I figured the least I could do was to step…oh…so…carefully…to the edge…well, near the edge…to live with it for an hour. A falcon swooped through the air below me, calling its insistent “kee kee kee kee kee.” I would love to look through its eyes just once, to see the way it sees. I would love to know its experience of precipice and high-in-mid-air that never includes fear. What an amazing kind of normal.

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