Lake Lewisia #498

[scrubjayspeaks]

Growing up in Lewisia, most everyone they knew loved the forest, felt the call of moss and water, dreamt of roots and branches even if all waking hours were spent in the safe zone between those two extremes. They dreamt of deserts: sand and rock that reorganized itself in the span of a breath or an eon, red striations older even than the rings of trees, things that waited for the cool and dark to start their skittering over dunes and canyons. They found a volunteer position straight out of high school, in a sister city south and inland enough that the landscape around them finally resembled the one they had carried in their head for so long.

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LL#498