I keep a small Polaroid shoved under the edge of the instrument console of a sign we saw near Mouse tail Landing. Whenever I glance down at the speedometer this is what I see not always consciously I don't often look at it but it's always there in my peripheral vision reminding me

There are no words. It is a talisman. the symbolism was more powerful without the words. this you have done this you shall do again if need be

Rolling Hills of brown interspersed with the occasional impossibly golden wheat mowed short

Bismarck reminded me of a model railroad set the way the trees fell in the hills and the rock out croppings along the river look like a a tilt shift miniature world in the vastness of all that sky