Nancy and Rosemary
"By Any Other Name..."
I started the day by sitting on the flat circle of gravel, a clearing in the midst of dried grass, weeds, and sagebrush about twenty feet from the trucks. You could call it a meditation spot, but I prefer not to. I stood up and went over to look at the old gray truck with a weathered stock rack and "Kenect, McGill, 129" in faded black stencil on the door of the driver's side. Its sidekick is the faded red-to-gray Chevy flat bed. Next to the wire fence is a jaunty green Willy's .
I'm not into meditation and I don't believe in personifying inanimate objects. However--when I bring a cup of coffee out here and sit in the morning sun letting my mind wander--I guess that would be meditation if I relinquished the pleasure of random thoughts. And--if those two trucks and that jeep could talk, I know they'd have stories to tell. How did they get here?
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