“Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.”
This past summer in Yosemite Valley, California, I sat in a meadow and watched the clouds pass over half dome. The valley was slowly but surely starting to cool once again. Late summer brings way to fall. Soon the waterfalls would be drying and frozen. Snow will come and cover the plants with perfect ribbons of white. I want to be there now, I close my eyes and I can almost imagine it. It is in my dreams and it is engrained into my DNA. It is the place that changed my life forever.