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| Evidence Tony Trigilio |
This is discovery. It's evidence of our big brains at work, like the liability waiver we sign about cougars before they let us hike. At 8,000 feet, I'm forced to bend over. Hands on knees, heart punching my chest. These are places where, in the dark, I trust the country road ends somewhere, clean air to kill for. Everything we do without permission feels like theft: three small logs, ash at the center of a triangle. Someone etched a fire pit at the top of the hill, a secret I've stumbled on. It's property. Killer bees and snakes live here. A rainshower of stars, night sky soaked in light. Something postures far away in the trees, just the wind hauling itself in high altitude. There are shadows here, of course. Unlike me, they're not afraid to come back from the edge of the world with not a thing to show for it. |
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