Dark World

After Evelyn’s sudden death, I often go to Yosemite. At night I walk into the meadow by myself and lose myself in the stars that seemed impossibly close. Constellations drift overhead. Everyone had turned in for the night, even the animals, except for a few who want a late night snack, and I try not to think about them. The meadow is so quiet that I can hear the hoot of an owl on the other side of the valley and the footsteps of what I think is a coyote trotting by.

* If you would like to read the rest of this post, let me know and I’ll send it to you. *