I crave this austere land for what survives and for the insights of reasonable people, but the time comes to hit the dirt road to town and earn a stash sub-teaching for the next summer of travel. It’s been a charming two months. Before departure, I had overlooked a Flycatcher (robust bird that catches tossed crickets on the wing) nested with four warm cream eggs on a trailer shelf. The trailer door is ajar but the bird can’t grasp it must be shut, so I prop it open and exit Rancho Scorpion in a cloud of dust. I’m full of eggs myself and the feet are itchy, so begins a new journey.
That’s the news hot off the press in Sand Valley. Hope there’s fewer shootin’s for it.