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The smell of eggs frying on the stove still linger in your mind as you walk through the place you called home. Until a few minutes ago, this home was yours and the animals in the fields were your friends.

   The creek out back gave this world a reason for existence. The vegetables grew and the chickens laid eggs. The days were long, but the tired was beautiful. 

  Home is the area where the kids played and grew. Season after season, they prospered. Not prosper like the city folk, but like the country folk. Money was scarce, but happiness was abundant. Then more people started to move in across the valley and to chase their own version of this small perfect dream.

   Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell that little stream up the road a bit to increase its flow for those downstream. The stream flowed less and less. The water was becoming brackish.

   The man packed the old truck with the few belongings he owned. The two kids in the seat next to him and a photo of his wife’s grave next to the now dead tree, taped to the dashboard…

    life, interrupted…dennis

Downy, soft clouds gently coercing the intense rays of an August sun to travel in practiced patterns. Shadow and Light slowly dancing with the red rock spires as their partner. It is only thru the benevolent nature of the Earth Mother that such joyous sights are revealed...dennis