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.

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stream On a Sycamore Tree Lake Hope and Hocking Hills, Ohio