Back when Uncle George was full of vigor, and I a child with no cares or worries. I couple of weeks later I went back to this special place to reminisce and remember my uncle.
The boulders spark my imagination just as they did when I was younger. I see giants resting in the earth, their backbones protruding for us mortal humans to climb upon. If you aren’t careful or show disrespect, the crevices will swallow you whole.
A summer rainstorm quickly drenches the landscape. I manage to set up a simple campsite before the rain falls like spraying bullets. In my tent I watch the flowers quench the water while remembering Dad’s accident from our previous time here…..
He was a much younger man then, younger than I am now, and full of reckless abandon. Riding a dirt bike fast and furious with his brother’s-in-law, much like Peter Fonda in the movie Easy Rider.
Then the accident happened, soft sand caused the bike to spill, and all I see is blood and screaming. Dad’s face was ripped wide open like an avocado before you eat it. He had to be transported over thirty miles
( maybe further) to the closet hospital.
It all ended well, and as the rain abates and the sun sets, I realize how fortunate I am to still have him in my life.
If nothing else, the sleeping giant boulders here clear my head and make one thing apparent :
“tell those that are important to you, that they are… You never know when it may be too late…”
