Semi-Daily Scribbles

It took a few trips around the outskirts until the right signpost appeared. I wound down the window and smelled juniper, baby's breath, and diesel. Hallmarks of a happy home. The engine slowed to a crawl, stalled, and my conveyance nosed its way into the only open space that mattered. Looking forward, reaching back, the landscape was a reflection of ancient ways and places yet to be built. On this acre, the past would be laid to rest.