Though this is the title of my most recently published book, I’d like to expound on it from a different viewpoint.
As I sit here the pain of the cancer wracking my body, my memories return to the beauty given for our eyes to behold by the Great Artist.
In my mind I again ride the North Cross Highway in Washington State with the deep canyons and the high rocky outcrops framed by emerald forests and a robin egg’s blue sky. Crystal clear streams cascade from the heights to race burbling and chuckling to the miiror pools below.
Again I ride the eight miles up the side of a dry desert mountain road to be awed at the crest by the brilliant shades of green in the valley below with it’s scattering of pine trees, the lush grass alongside the stream and the rocks of a cliff face that contain every color that can be imagined. Once again I dismount and bow my head to give thanks for the beauty and tell myself that this is where I’d like for my bones to rest.
I remember the rugged Oregon Coast where the waves crash and the huge rocks that stand far out in the water silently whisper in my ear about shipwrecks, treasure and dangerous things that await the brave and foolish.
I have mentally returned to the beach campfire on the haunting Washington Coast. With few visitors the night waves beg you to come and be one with their cold crashing depths, while the wind cries a lonely song along the shear rock wall scattering sparks from the fire.
I dream of the magnificent Alaska. The deep dark forests, the many dangers and beautiful panoramic views. I again long to survive the deep snows of winter alone in a cabin that I’ve built with my own two hands. With no water nor power. I would again search the steams with detector and pan looking for the yellow iron (gold) nuggets that hide there amongst the bears and the moose.
In closing I will ask you a question. There is no need to answer it to anyone except yourself …
From Where Does the Wind Whisper Your Name?