Days ago, I hunted up the reservoir. It had rained overnight, and larch needles and leaves had been falling. I took a road over a ridge to the south. As I reached the top, the road swung toward the southwest. Clouds brightened. I drove slowly. The landscape changed as the …
As the presidential election grumbles and stumbles its way toward the finish line, I find myself remembering an event from my past that I would like to share.
