deep greens and blues are the colors I choose

In the evening sun we drove until the pavement stopped and the dirt road began. From there we wound around within the bowl the surrounding mountains created, while the car kicked up clouds of dust too thick to see the sheep in the fields.

We ate fresh tomato, basil and mozzarella sandwiches out on the big porch (with screens on three sides) and talked until the evergreens turned dark blue and came tumbling down the mountain in long, sharp shadows.

After a while, the moon rose and pulled a blanket over our conversation. All became quiet and still. We packed the silver truck full of what was left and drove past bleating sheep and the babbling brook down in the pasture. Night owls are in good company. The sound of gravel was quiet backdrop to our collective narrative. Soon tires gripped pavement and started to hum along the highway.

If you're lucky enough to be in the mountains, he said, you're lucky enough.

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