I took a walk along the Kokosing River on Tuesday and got caught in a rainstorm. The river ended up over its banks that night. The second photo here is of a fire lane that cuts through the land. I’ve always imagined that’s where my sister Ann’s spirit lives. Each time I pass it, I think of her dancing. I understand why cultures have a need to place the dead somewhere fixed in the world. It is so that we can visit.