This temporal alpine woodland ascends to decades of grey slate capped with snowy regrets. Whose heights shroud a dying volcano who wears the forest highway like an asphalt choker. Imagine driving down that necklace in a van when you encounter an epiphany time deer, head on. The impact of your van with the venison flank of being takes root in surrounding sumac like an errant falcon. Depending where you come from all the beaches you took to get here have been riveted to the skyline by eighteen separate rivulets or dreams. The sky’s and tomorrow’s foregone conclusions filter back through icy calendars of pebbles while a candlemass of sparrows gets devoured by condors of candor in the valleys of reflection. On that mountain, the mind is a better predator than the brain. The rain, a better reader of the wilds than the wind. At the peaks of every instant, snow.