These mountains are a cold hard skeleton and life is the green coat draped over their jagged bones.

Long spindly leaves of desert plants move lightly in the wind. Granite boulders have lichen waiting for raindrops to make their color more vibrant and further up arroyos, in the canyons between mountain fingers, are mule deer, hiding in plain sight.

I touch restless leaves, run my hand through their hair. Their long razor thin leaves pull at my hand and cut at my fingers.

Nature, when you reach for it, shows its defenses.

 

 

 

 

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