I stood in the field alone, looking out to the western foothills. The sun was starting its descent from day to night, but it wasn’t quite sunset.
It was the magical time justbefore. The window through whicheverything is more vibrant in color, more alive, rimmed with gold. My favorite time of the day.
“This is when they should bury me,” I thought.
This is when they shouldlower my body into the ground, when the sun turns the world golden before its arc into night.
When the leaves on the trees flash a bright spring green. And the cottonwood floating in the airlooks electric. When the long grass glows warm, its tips a blur of undulating white.
When everything is just a little too bright, just a little too beautiful, just a little too intense.
Just like me.
I was out in that field looking for…
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